The Final Reckoning Pt I: Ultimate Vision
by Ben Pieper
Summary: Sacrifice and love stand out against the backdrop of a war that will change the entire galaxy and Picard forever, when a race from another universe invades the Alpha Quadrant. Part I of the Final Reckoning Trilogy.
1. Invasion

Star Trek: The Next Generation

The Final Reckoning Trilogy

Book One – The Ultimate Vision

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("We're talking about universal, candy-coated Armageddon…")

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, 2285

Captain's Log: Stardate 50791.7 – The USS _Enterprise _ispatrolling the Neutral Zone border after departure from _Deep Space Nine_, where, at the request of the astrometrics section, we have been running scans and tests of the Bajoran wormhole.

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Chapter I

The sleek, dark shape of the USS _Enterprise_ cruised along the border of the Neutral Zone, patrolling between the numerous Starbases dotted along the imaginary line, guarding against the threat of invasion heading out from Romulan space into the Federation.

The buzz of activity that filled the bridge of the _Enterprise_ surrounded Captain Jean-Luc Picard, seated in his command chair on a slightly raised dais, beside Commander William Riker and Counsellor Deanna Troi, with the new chief of security, Lieutenant Hedly, standing behind. He revelled in the noises of his starship, knowing that this sound was the proof of his complete control over both the ship and his situation.

Suddenly a bleeping pervaded the quietly noisy atmosphere.

Lieutenant Commander Data, the pale-skinned, golden eyed android, whose console was creating the invasive bleep, turned to look at Picard. 'Captain, I'm reading a small type-one subspace anomaly in the Neutral Zone.'

Picard glanced at Riker, got up from his seat and walked over to Data's station. 'Is it dangerous?'

'It does not appear to be, Captain; certainly it poses no threat to traffic. But, it should be noted that this type of spatial anomaly has not been located or scanned in the last one hundred and five years.' His voice held a trace of scientific eagerness. Picard nodded, a slight smile on his face, and turned away.

'Lieutenant Hedly, see if you can contact the Romulans. I want to get permission before I enter the Neutral Zone. After that, contact Starfleet, tell them our situation and request permission to enter the Zone.'

'Aye, sir.' Once again, as Picard settled into his seat, he revelled in the feeling of control.

A few hours after the _Enterprise_ had first detected the anomaly, Hedly signalled to Riker who was stood at one of the aft science stations and he stepped over to her console. 'Yes, Lieutenant?'

'We have a response from Starfleet.' Riker nodded.

Raising his head slightly, he said, 'Captain Picard to the bridge.'

The filtered voice of Picard replied to Riker's call. 'On my way.' Almost immediately, Picard emerged onto the bridge from his ready room. Riker turned to face him.

'We have a response from Starfleet, Captain. Admiral Shakoor.'

'On screen.' Picard took his seat as the viewer flashed on. A venerable man was sat looking at the bridge of the _Enterprise_ from an office on Earth. His dark features wore a smile as the picture came on. He began without preamble.

'Captain Picard, Starfleet agrees that this anomaly you reported should be investigated. If you can get permission from the Romulans, the Federation Council also gives permission to enter the Neutral Zone.'

'Thank you very much, Admiral.' said Picard, mildly surprised. Admiral Shakoor laughed once, aware of the effect his message would have on the normally unflappable starship captain.

'Good luck, Captain. Starfleet out.' The viewer blinked off. Riker glanced at Picard, his own surprise evident.

'I didn't think they'd let us go.' Picard nodded, and turned to look at the viewscreen again.

'Now, it all depends on the Romulans.'

Hedly interrupted his train of thought almost as if on cue. 'Captain, we have a message from Romulus.' Picard glanced at Riker, who blew out his breath in surprise.

'On screen,' said the first officer.

A young Romulan face appeared. The darkly handsome young man gazed at the _Enterprise_ bridge with arrogant poise. 'Captain Picard, this is Proconsul Naré of the Romulan Senate. We have also detected the anomaly you mention and we are sending two Warbirds to investigate. In the interests of interstellar peace and exploration, we shall give you the location of these ships so that you can track them. Neither of them will be cloaked. You may enter the Zone and investigate once they have completed preliminary scans.'

'Thank you, Proconsul Naré. We look forward to co-operating with your ships.' Naré nodded slightly and cut the channel. The viewer went blank. Picard glanced at Riker in even greater surprise.

'We are receiving the co-ordinates of the Romulan Warbirds, Captain. Neither are cloaked, as Proconsul Naré said,' reported Data. Picard stood, smiling slightly.

'Keep a close eye on them, Data. Once they reach the anomaly, warn me. I'll be in my quarters.' He left the bridge.

It was four hours before Data called Picard. 'Captain, the Warbirds have reached the anomaly. They are carrying out initial scans.'

'On my way!' Excited at the prospect of a new scientific discovery, Picard scrambled from his desk and hurried into the corridor.

Riker glanced at the aft turbolift as it slid open and admitted Picard to the bridge. The captain walked to his command chair and, as he sat, he said to Riker, almost conversationally, 'Report.'

Data replied, 'The Romulans have conducted several scans of a large planet that they say is the source of the rift.'

'Is that all?' asked Picard. Data nodded in confirmation. Picard turned his attention to the forward viewscreen, as if contemplating the distant planet before them and the Romulan Warbirds around it. 'I believe that means we can -'

A massive flash of white light swamped the bridge, starkly illuminating everyone with long silhouettes. Data quickly began working to analyse it, but the organic crew was paralysed by the shock. Even as the flash began to die away, Data turned to Picard, in answer to the captain's unborn question.

'Captain, that was the visual effects of a massive subspace explosion from the co-ordinates of the anomaly! A powerful subspace shockwave will impact the ship in five seconds!'

'Shields! All hands, brace for impact!' yelled Picard.

The invisible subspace shockwave struck the _Enterprise_ with all the violence of a tsunami. The starship pitched and rolled, throwing the bridge crew from their stations. Picard fell heavily, somewhat stunned, but Riker managed to stay in his seat. 'Turn her with the wave!'

Ensign Bridges, the helm officer, crawled back to her console, and quickly hit the appropriate controls. The _Enterprise_ turned around so that her bow was pointing away from the shock wave. 'Match the speed of the wave!' ordered Picard, clambering to his feet.

The _Enterprise_ surged forward like a surfer on the crest of a wave, and broke free from the violent storm quickly.

'Report!' ordered Riker as the shaking stopped.

Data responded quickly. 'Minor structural damage to the saucer section.'

'We got off lightly, Number One.' Picard's voice was grim as he glared at the screen. 'We weren't anywhere near the blast.' Riker had already latched on to Picard's train of thought.

'Status of Romulan Warbirds, Mr. Data?' Riker asked. Data checked his readings quickly.

'The subspace interference is too thick, Commander. I cannot scan their last reported location.' Data's voice was heavy with foreboding.

'Ensign Bridges,' Picard ordered, 'take us into the Neutral Zone. Maximum warp.'

The _Enterprise_ broke out of warp near a large, reddish planet, illuminated faintly by the light of a distant star. Surrounded by no satellites, the planet was totally unremarkable.

'The planet is uninhabited, Captain, but it is Class-M. I have scanned its surface, and found no evidence of a spatial anomaly.'

'What about the Warbirds?'

Data's voice reflected the tension on the bridge. 'There is no sign of either vessel, damaged or undamaged. Captain, their proximity to the detonation makes it almost certain that they were completely destroyed.'

Picard nodded, none of the tension he was feeling showing in his face. He turned to Riker. 'Number One, beam down to the surface with an away team, and make further scans. Maybe if you're closer to the spot, your tricorders can give us a better idea of what we're facing here. I want to try and find out as much information about this before the Romulan government starts laying blame around over the destruction of their two Warbirds.'

'Aye, sir,' Riker said. He rose from his seat and motioned for Hedly and Data to follow him. They left via the aft turbolift.

The transporter beams appeared on the surface of the planet, glowed brightly for a moment, and then vanished, leaving behind the figures of Riker, Hedly, Data, and a young man wearing the yellow of security. Both Hedly and the security guard had their phasers drawn quickly. Riker, standing close to Data, merely glanced at the android expectantly. Data held a tricorder forward, scanning with fascinated interest. Riker took the opportunity to study their surroundings.

'Desolate,' Hedly remarked. Riker had to agree. The planet's soil was similar in hue to that of Mars, but unlike the bustling planet that Riker knew and loved, there was no vegetation and no life; only red soil as far as the eye could see, punctuated only by the occasional hill.

Data finished his scan, and turned to face Riker. 'Commander, I have discovered that the anomaly is directly below our current position; 8.5 miles below the surface to be exact.'

'Any signs of what created it?'

'No, sir. If the tricorder readings are to be believed, it appears to be stable, and functioning as a dimensional rift.'

'A rift?' asked Riker incredulously.

'Yes, sir,' said Data, his voice taking on a scholarly tone as he holstered his tricorder. 'It is a form of bridge between alternate dimensions. A negative area, where the two universes can intersect safely.'

'You mean, like the mirror universe that _DS9_ reported encountering?'

'Similar, but not the same. The mirror universe –' Data was cut off when his tricorder began bleeping. He whipped it out and studied it. His jaw dropped, which Riker would have found amusing under normal circumstances. 'Oh, hell!'

'What is it?' asked Riker, scanning the horizon for possible danger.

'I'm reading a huge disturbance in the rift!' Data hit his communicator hard. 'Data to _Enterprise_!'

Picard's voice came back, calm and controlled as always. '_Enterprise_ here.'

'Captain, please have the sensors set to scan 8.5 miles below the planet's surface,' asked Data, his voice still worried.

'Understood,' replied Picard, not asking Data for a reason about his unusual request. Riker heard his captain give the relevant orders over the open comm-channel.

Riker turned to face Data, an exasperated expression on his face. 'Data, what have you found?'

'I am checking my readings first, Commander. I would prefer not to alarm you until I can be sure that what I believe I have discovered is accurate.' Riker nodded and sighed, faintly annoyed, but understanding Data's caution. He turned to Hedly.

'Is there any sign of trouble, Lieutenant?' he asked.

'None that I can see, sir,' replied the security chief, sounding worried herself. Riker turned back to Data, who was speaking to Picard. As the conversation ended, Data turned to Riker, his face changing to an expression that had never been seen before on the android's face – panic.

'Sir, we have to get off the planet now. Something is emerging from the rift and forcing its way to the surface!'

Riker stared at him in uncomprehending shock, and then hit his commbadge. '_Enterprise_; four to beam up!'

The transporter once again claimed their atoms and removed them from the planet. Shortly after it did so, the ground that they had been standing on began to convulse and shake violently.

The relief ops officer stared at the readings on his console, desperately hoping that he was wrong. 'Oh, my god!' he said, shocked out of all routine.

'What is it, Ensign?' asked Picard, surprised by the young officer's breach of protocol. The young man turned to face his captain, horror etched on his face.

'There's something emerging from the surface of the planet, sir! It's huge!'

'On screen,' ordered Picard, making his voice calm.

The viewer activated, and Picard rose slowly from his seat, stunned into disbelief. At that moment, the aft turbolift opened and Hedly, Riker and Data emerged onto the bridge. They all stopped, rooted to the spot by what they saw on the screen.

Struggling to free itself from the clutches of the planet that seemed to have spawned it, a monstrous black circle was forcing its way clear of the red soil of the planet's crust.

'What the hell is that?' asked Riker, his voice awe-struck.

'Is it a ship?' asked Picard, refusing to let himself be overwhelmed simply by the sheer mass of the thing below.

'Apparently so, Captain. I am reading more than two million life-forms onboard. I am also reading massive concentrations of power in the vessel, much of which is devoted to propulsion and life-support, if the scanners are correct. There is also a massive power reserve outside of these functions that I cannot explain.'

'How big is it?' asked Hedly quietly, voicing the question that all of the bridge crew wanted answering.

'It is approximately 15 kilometres in diameter, and has a mass of almost thirty million metric tons.'

The crew could do little but stare as the dark mammoth rose from the surface of the planet below, dust falling from it's flanks and back to the planet's grasp. In its wake, the great vessel left no mark of it's passing. The surface of the planet was unblemished.

The black vessel was dimly lit by small running lights that were themselves the size of one of the _Enterprise's_ warp nacelles. A huge circle three times the length of the _Enterprise_ resided in the centre of the underside of the huge craft, and all around it, an embossed sunburst pattern radiated from the centre of the ship. The entire surface was covered by intricate decorations that were arranged in an order that made no sense to the crew of the _Enterprise_. There appeared to be no viewports or even weapons ports, but Picard had a strange sense of anxiety that persisted long after the brooding, dark and menacing shape had passed over the _Enterprise_, blotting out the distant sun.

Data's voice awoke the _Enterprise_ crew from their shocked stupor. 'Captain, the ship is proceeding at full impulse power on a course of 710 mark 65. It will reach a planet listed as Korella II in two days, two hours, five minutes and three seconds. The ship appears to have several-'

A loud alarm was set off, cutting off Data, who whirled around and pressed a few buttons.

'Captain! The planet below is again experiencing severe seismic stress! I think that it may be related to the dimensional rift.' Picard nodded, but turned his attention to the retreating monster before them.

'Ensign Bridges, set course 710 mark 65. We'll get there before this ship.'

The _Enterprise_ began to accelerate from orbit. Abruptly, as the _Enterprise _prepared to go to warp speed, a monstrous dark shape began to surface from the blue area covering most of the planet's surface.

Data suddenly shot bolt upright and whirled around in his seat to face Picard, alarm written over his face. 'Captain, an even larger object is emerging from the planet's largest ocean! It's even larger than the first ship!'

Picard looked up in shock. 'Reverse view. On main viewer.' The screen lit.

Another huge, black ship was forcing its way from underneath the surface of the planet's sea. As it emerged slowly, all that could be seen was a rounded dome, with no imperfections, no decorations, and no running lights. It freed itself from the planet's ionosphere and wallowed clear of the gravitational grip. Now, like a prehistoric monster that had built up immense speed, it changed direction to follow the smaller ship.

Picard was stunned into silence. The huge vessel was jet black, with no visible decorations unlike the smaller vessel. No running lights glowed on its ebony surface, and two huge tooth-like projections hung from the bottom of the mammoth ship. It began to angle away from the planet.

'Data, I need some information about that ship,' said Picard. 'What are we looking at here?'

'Sir, the second ship is approximately 900 kilometres long and has a mass of 400 billion metric tons. I am detecting immense power sources on her, but not concentrated in a single spot, like the first vessel,' reported Data, his voice flat with awe, the shock obviously having activated his emotion chip. 'Captain, I have reason to believe that the smaller ship is part of the larger vessel. There is a large empty ring on the underside of the large ship, which has exactly the same dimensions as the smaller ship and indications of docking projections. There seem to be several hundred other similar saucer shapes on the larger vessel. I am unsure as to their function.'

Hedly said, her thoughts turning immediately to security issues, 'Captain, the ships may pose a security threat. Should we inform Starfleet?'

Picard turned. 'You're right, Lieutenant. Send this to Starfleet Command. Two large ships detected, heading into Romulan space. Request orders.' Hedly nodded.

'Data, can these ships have something to do with the destruction of the Warbirds?' Data shrugged.

'I cannot tell, captain. I believe that the rift was subjected to a scan of too high an intensity and that the power caused it to widen. The effect could have produced a subspace shockwave and explosion similar to the one we experienced. It would have destroyed the Warbirds and the warp core breaches would have widened the rift even further.'

'I think that we've got to get to Korella II and warn them before these ships get there,' said Riker.

Picard shook his head. 'I'm waiting for a reply from Starfleet before I do anything rash. There's been no indication that these ships are hostile.' He turned to Riker. 'Number One, I'll be in my ready room. Once we get a reply, patch it through.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Riker, but Picard had already entered his ready room.

Four hours later, Picard was sat in his ready room when his viewer bleeped. He activated it, and the screen read, 'Starfleet Command to Captain Jean-Luc Picard, USS _Enterprise NCC 1701-E_. Command Authorisation required.'

Picard said, 'Authorisation: Picard, 4-7-alpha-tango.' Admiral Paris, the Chief of Staff, appeared on the screen.

'Jean-Luc, we have detected a distress call coming from Romulus. It is a general distress call, and I'll put it through to you now.' The Admiral disappeared, and a Starfleet chevron appeared in his place.

Then, a Romulan face appeared on the screen. 'This is the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire. The Romulan Empire needs help desperately. Two hours ago, our sensors picked up two large vessels approaching a planet in our space at full impulse power. They match a configuration of the ships of a dangerous old power in the galaxy. If you do not help us, than everybody in the galaxy will die. The Federation, the Klingons, the Ferengi, the Cardassians, the Dominion; we will all be destroyed. We need help. The ships will arrive in two days. Please send help quickly.'

Paris' face reappeared on the screen. 'Captain, we are sending two ships, the _Azetbur _and the _Venture_, to the Neutral Zone. You're currently in the Neutral Zone. Is this connected with the dimensional rift you reported?'

Picard nodded. 'It is. The ships were buried under the surface of a planet near our position. We approached the planet after we detected that it had severe seismic stress. We arrived and the smaller ship emerged from the surface about two minutes later.

'It is fifteen kilometres long. Another ship began to emerge a few seconds later. This one is almost certainly a mother ship to the smaller ship. It is 900 kilometres long, and appears to carry a large number of the smaller ships on the underside.'

Paris' face creased in horror. 'These ships; have you got a visual record of them?'

Picard nodded and pressed a few buttons.

On Earth, in Admiral Paris' office, the Admiral watched as first the smaller saucer arose from the surface, and then as the larger ship rose from it. He flipped a switch, and the image froze. He pressed a button and a frame outline appeared and fitted over the smaller ship. The images flashed and the computer said quietly, '99% match to archive records.'

He reactivated his link to Picard. 'Jean-Luc,' he said, urgently, 'These ships must be destroyed. They have a design frighteningly similar to a design from an old record that we have in Starfleet archives. By express permission of both Romulus from their distress signal, and from myself, you may enter Romulan territory. These ships are to be destroyed _at all costs_.' He took a deep breath, trying to dispel his panic.

Picard nodded, clearly not understanding. 'Does this mean we are at war with them, Admiral? Don't you think this is a little hasty?'

Admiral Paris knew better than to contradict both Starfleet standard procedure and the instincts of his most valued and trusted officer. Thus, he said, 'Of course, if you can, try and establish peaceful contact, Captain, but if they fire on anyone, we are in an automatic war situation. Good luck, Captain. You'll need it.'

The viewer blacked out, and Picard sat back in his chair. After a few seconds, he got up and walked onto the bridge.

'Data, run a records check on the two ships we found here. Get any information we have that may be useful in a combat situation. Use your discretion. Ensign Bridges, set an intercept course for those two ships. Maximum warp.'

He sat in the command chair. 'Red alert. All hands to battle stations.'

The klaxon blared and the lights dimmed to signify a battle footing.

Picard glanced at Bridges, who waited, poised to carry out the order she knew was coming. 'Engage.'

The _Enterprise_ roared into warp speed.

'I called you together to discuss the possibility of war. I have orders to establish peaceful contact with these ships, but if they do become hostile, we have orders to attack the alien vessels and institute a Code Factor One alert.' Picard looked along the table at his senior officers. Riker looked serious, but the others all appeared worried.

'Captain,' Picard looked at Hedly, 'Starfleet wanted us to destroy these ships? Isn't that against standard procedure?' Picard nodded.

'Yes. When I spoke with Admiral Paris, he seemed almost panicked. That's why I asked Data to run a records check on these ships. I want to know what could panic one of Starfleet's most experienced veterans.' At this moment, Data came through the door.

'Captain, I have completed my task.' Picard looked up at his second officer.

'What have you found?' Data was impassive. He walked over to the screen on the bulkhead.

'Even using Starfleet records from Earth, I have found very little information. However, I found an old record which is actually a short tape of old-style video film that was taken by a Romulan vessel which engaged in combat against one of the ships.' The android pressed a button on the panel beside the screen. A picture appeared. 'This is taken from a camera mounted on one of the Romulan Birds of Prey. It shows a Romulan fleet attacking one of the smaller ships.'

The picture unfroze, showing a cluster of older Romulan ships firing red blasts of energy into one of the huge ships. Although everyone in the room knew that the Birds of Prey were not nearly as powerful as the Warbirds the Romulans used now, it was still worrying to see the huge vessel shrugging off the blasts easily. The giant craft was the same design as the circular vessel headed towards the planet Korella II. The Romulan ship that the camera was mounted on zoomed closer to the huge ship. A blast of energy struck the side, blowing a hole in the large ship.

The camera suddenly pulled away, showing only empty space. Abruptly, in the darkness of space, a group of smaller ships, almost indistinguishable against the stars, zoomed into the camera's field of vision. Several beams of green energy shot straight at the camera, fired by the tiny ships. The picture shook, brightened, and vanished. Data turned the screen off.

'The film was recovered four days later by another Romulan warfleet. They found nothing else but wreckage, not only from Romulan Birds of Prey, but also unidentified metal shards from a ship much larger than any Romulan vessel, or any at the time. Additionally, an anti-matter blast had left a residue much larger than if the entire fleet had been destroyed.'

Picard frowned. 'These ships must have substantial power demands.'

'The largest ship was displaying a power curve greater than would ever be needed for normal shipboard operations, even for something of that size,' Geordi said, who had also studied the engineering records from the battle. 'I can't think of anything we currently possess that would be able to handle the amount of power that these ships have as falloff. They're not the most efficient consumers I've ever seen.'

Picard frowned for a moment and then glanced at Data again. 'What could they need that much power for?'

'I do not know, Captain.'

'A weapon,' Riker suggested. Picard smiled slightly.

'What would a weapon that large be used for, Will? It would be impractical for a space battle, if it required that much of a power drain. Not only that, but our own scans reveal no evidence of weapons emplacements anywhere on any of those ships.' 

'What did Praetor Naxus call them?' asked Troi. 'An old power?' Data nodded.

'Yes, but I believe he was mistaken. The evidence proves that these ships are extra-dimensional, rather than being well-hidden for years.' The intercom beeped.

'Captain, we are approaching Korella II. The large ship is slowing down.' Picard stood.

'Drop to impulse power!' The senior officers charged onto the bridge.


	2. First Strike

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Chapter II

As the _Enterprise_ shot out of warp, the first ship was approaching the planet. Despite the crew's realisation that it was the smaller of the two craft, it was still intimidatingly large. Data, having activated his emotion chip, had just said so, his voice holding back the mounting terror that had filled him. 

'That doesn't necessarily mean that they are hostile, Data,' chided Troi gently.

Picard said, 'Open a hailing frequency, Lieutenant.' Hedly complied.

'Open, sir.' Picard cleared his throat.

'This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS_ Enterprise_, representing the United Federation of Planets. Our intentions are peaceful.'

The short speech, confronted with the large ship in front of them, sounded pathetic. Troi leaned towards Picard.

'Captain, I am receiving large amounts of emotions, but towards the _Enterprise_ specifically is directed great...' she struggled for words, 'Amusement,' she settled on eventually. 'I think they believe that we aren't a threat.'

There was silence as Picard digested this information, and then Hedly said, 'Captain, we are reading a large energy build-up in the ship. It could be a weapons sequence.'

Before the _Enterprise_, a sickly green light in a narrow beam pushed forward to the saucer section. The ship rocked slightly. Data kept a careful eye on the screen. 'We are being scanned.' Picard held out a hand, voice filled with warning.

'Make no return scans! They may mistake that as a hostile act!' Suddenly Troi gasped.

'Captain! The emotions have changed! Not amusement anymore, but great hatred!'

'Towards us or the Romulans?' asked Picard.

'Us, Captain. It is as though they know who we are or are aggrieved at the Federation in some way.'

'Or maybe just humans,' added Riker.

The huge ship scanned the _Enterprise_ a little longer, and then two huge doors slid open on the side of the vessel, making the thin beam an ocean of light.

On the bridge, Picard shielded his eyes. The bright green light encapsulated the bridge, forcing the crew to squint or block it out. The exception to this was Data, who started to analyse it. He glanced down at his panel and then shouted, 'Energy release from the ship!'

'Evasive manoeuvres!' shouted Picard, but by then, however, it was far too late.

A white blast of energy hit the _Enterprise _on the forward shields. The energy smashed the _Enterprise_ backward as if it had taken an uppercut to the jaw. 

On the bridge, a large explosion damaged the consoles at the back of the bridge. The lights went out, quickly replaced by the red emergency lights. The crew was thrown around the bridge by the impact. Data shouted, 'The _Enterprise_ is tumbling, Captain!' Hedly pulled herself back to her console and stared at the readings in horror.

'Shields down completely, Captain! Main power is down! We have fires on decks four, seven, eight and twelve! There is a large hull breach on deck nine! Emergency forcefields not responding! Inertial dampers off-line!'

Bridges tried to get back to her panel, but another massive surge threw her against the bulkhead, knocking her unconscious. Lieutenant Thames, who had been near the console when the blast had struck, staggered over to the helm, and fought to right the ship. The viewer was still working, and it gave a view of the large ship heading towards the planet nearby.

'Sir, the vessel will reach the planet in twelve minutes,' Data reported, his voice full of fear.

'Sir, I've got the tumble under control, but we've lost Ensign Bridges for the moment. She's badly injured,' reported Thames, her voice cool and professional.

Picard raised his head and seemingly spoke to thin air. 'Bridge to sickbay! We need a medical team up here now!' Crusher's voice came back. She sounded pressed, understandably.

'I'll have one up in a few minutes!' The link cut off abruptly. Picard looked back at the viewer.

'Lieutenant Hedly, send a message back to Starfleet Command, directly to Admiral Paris. USS_ Enterprise_ encountering hostile force. Recommending Code Factor One. After you've done that, arm quantum torpedoes and ready phasers. Intercept course, Lieutenant Thames. Hedly nodded, giving no outward sign of any worry about the declaration of invasion status.

'First officer concurs,' said Riker, for the computer's log.

'Second officer concurs,' added Data.

'It's a pity the ship's captain doesn't,' muttered Picard, too low to be heard. He glanced at Riker, a quick smile on his lips.

The _Enterprise_ controlled the roll, and used it to gain greater impetus in its great curving arc. It gave pursuit.

'Captain,' said Data, 'the enemy ship has entered the planet's atmosphere. It is heading towards the only major city on the planet. There is a strange build-up of energy directed to the central circle on the underside. I cannot conjecture any hypothesis.'

Suddenly the turbolift slid open, and four medics, led by Beverly Crusher, entered the bridge. One went immediately over to Ensign Bridges.

'Captain, the ship has reached the centre of the city,' reported Hedly.

'On screen.' The viewer showed the ship hovering over the city. Picard frowned. 'What's it doing?'

Crusher looked up. 'We need to get Ensign Bridges to sickbay, Captain.' Picard nodded, absently.

Beverly tapped her badge and said, 'Transporter room, beam two people directly to sickbay.' The glittering energy enveloped them and carried them off.

Picard looked at Data. 'Analysis?' Data looked at his console, and then shrugged.

'Our sensors cannot detect what is going on inside the saucer.'

Hedly interrupted. 'Captain, I'm reading a massive surge of energy. It was discharged two seconds ago.' She frowned. 'Also reading multiple explosions, mass fires breaking out....' She shrugged. Riker gasped.

'Captain!' Picard turned towards the viewer.

A massive wall of fire was expanding from the edges of the saucer, large enough to be seen from space. It was destroying everything in its path. Data spoke.

'Captain, the fire is going to completely level the city in less than a minute. It is produced as an after-effect of what must be a weapon mounted on the underside of the saucer.' Picard gaped in shock.

'A weapon,' he whispered. He looked at Data. 'How many people down there?' Data looked at his console.

'Two thousand.'

Hedly spoke, her voice full of warning. 'Captain, the larger ship is entering the system. About four hundred smaller ships have been launched towards us and are travelling at full impulse. They will reach our position in four minutes. They have altered their approach to an attack vector.'

Picard paused, considering his options. On the screen, the huge ship began to move away and the _Enterprise_ crew could see the full extent of the devastation on the city. Data spoke again.

'Life-form readings, out of a population of two thousand, there are fourteen survivors.' Everyone looked at Data, not believing.

'Two minutes to intercept.' Hedly's anxious voice broke everyone out of his or her trance. Picard sat in his chair and made a decision. He stared at Thames.

'Lieutenant, set course to Romulus, warp 9.' He glanced at Riker, prepared to explain his actions, but his first officer merely nodded. The _Enterprise_ left the orbit of the planet.

The two huge ships approached each other as hundreds of smaller craft swept past, the smaller of the two displaying its underside to the surface of the larger vessel. The smaller ship faced the empty ring, and connected to it. The two joined ships moved towards the planet.

'It appears I owe you an apology, Number One. It was a weapon.' Picard sounded slightly distant as his first officer stood before him in his ready room. Riker decided to take the comment at face value.

'Thank you, sir.' Picard didn't reply to the light sarcasm in Riker's tone. 'Is there a problem, Captain?'

'What is it that they hate about us, Will?' Picard said, his tone concerned. 'Troi said that she could sense hatred directed to us, and not to the Romulan city, but they eradicated that city needlessly. What are they?'

'We know that they have powerful ships and weapons. They are undoubtedly hostile to the Romulans, and to us, but their reasons are unknown. Beyond that, we know nothing.'

Picard glanced up at Riker, his expression one of mock-exasperation. 'Will, can't you do any better than that?'

Riker shook his head, smiling. 'Sorry, sir.' His face became serious again. 'They're not indestructible, sir. No-one is.'

'Except us, Number One,' said Picard, still smiling.

The _Enterprise_ entered the orbit of Romulus and was immediately challenged by two Romulan Warbirds.

'I assure you, Commander Ralek,' said Picard to the young Romulan officer on the screen, 'we are here on a mission of paramount importance to both the Star Empire and the Federation and with the permission of the Praetor. May I be permitted to speak with Praetor Naxus?'

'I will give you a channel to the Praetor, but please be brief,' said Ralek, reluctantly.

Picard nodded. 'That is all I need, thank you.'

The screen abruptly filled with Romulan symbols, and then an old man's face appeared on the screen. Picard recognised Naxus from the extensive files Starfleet Intelligence kept on him, but was amazed to find that the Romulan's face was haggard and drawn. 'Praetor Naxus, I am –'

'Captain Jean-Luc Picard, I know. I assume that you have come to warn me about the ships that have attacked Korella II.'

Picard took the Romulan leader's casual remark in stride. 'Yes, Praetor.'

'I am afraid that we already have more information on these ships and their capabilities than you have, Captain. If you beam down, then I will be prepared to share it with you.'

Picard nodded. 'I trust you will not be insulted if we came armed, Praetor.'

Naxus smiled faintly. 'Believe me, Captain, I would expect you to. However, we have a lot more to fear than each other.' With that dreadful pronouncement, the screen blanked out, leaving Picard and Riker to glance at each other, worry written in their faces.

Then Picard turned to Hedly. 'Have the transporter room readied. Counsellor Troi, Commander Riker, come with me.'

The announcement provoked surprise and outrage on the bridge. 'Captain, you can't beam down to Romulus!' protested Hedly.

'We cannot take three of the most senior officers on the ship down there!' said Riker, shocked by Picard's order.

Picard raised a hand to quell the uproar. 'I understand your objections, but I don't believe that we have anything to fear from the Romulans. Although I maintain a degree of suspicion, we are dealing with what appears to be a greater threat to the Federation than me beaming down to Romulus.' He glanced around the bridge mildly, but his voice held steel. 'We will not go unarmed, but I cannot afford to ignore the opportunity to co-operate with the Romulans. It may prove to be a powerful bargaining chip in the future.' He paused again. 'If that is all, we cannot keep the Romulans waiting.'

Praetor Naxus stood up as the three _Enterprise_ crewmembers entered his office. They sat on plush chairs and Naxus spoke immediately, as if unwilling to waste any time, even on pleasantries. 'Captain Picard, what news do you bring of Korella II?'

Picard sighed. 'Not good news.' He proceeded to tell him of what had happened to the city on Korella. Once he had finished, the Praetor sat back and stared at the ceiling.

'Captain Picard, this is grave news.' Picard nodded.

'Praetor, could you tell us what you know of these ships?' It was phrased as a request, but came out as an order. Naxus sighed.

'About eight years ago, a patrol fleet encountered two of the smaller ships heading towards Romulus at sublight speeds. They had evidently been travelling for a long time, and we assumed that they were sleeper ships. When we attempted to make contact to order them to leave our space, they immediately launched attack fighters and engaged our small fleet. Our weapons could not damage them, and they tore our fleet apart quickly.

'We immediately dispatched our largest fleet under our best admiral at the time in order to destroy them. Very few ships returned and those that did reported that a victory would not have been possible if the two ships had not mysteriously lost all of their power during the battle, shutting down their fighters and their own shield systems. Our defence forces were decimated and we had very few ships left with which to enforce our borders. After the Tomed Incident, we decided it would be prudent to stay isolated until we were able to rebuild our shattered forces. Our designers, in response to the threat we believed was present from those heavy starships, developed our Warbird cruisers.'

Picard frowned, and Riker said, wonderingly, 'We, or anyone else, could have invaded at any time.'

Naxus nodded. 'And we could have put up only a shallow defence. Our defensive capabilities were almost completely destroyed. We fear that this time, no one may survive. They have, from your own account, more than a hundred heavy ships and even more attack planes. Add to that the mother ship, and we have a recipe for disaster. They have the firepower and numbers to destroy every planet and city in the galaxy. And if they gain access to the wormhole, we could be looking at the end of the galaxy.' Horror filled his voice, and Picard did not doubt that Naxus was convinced of his horrific prediction.

Troi whispered into Picard's ear. 'He's very scared, Captain, and he's definitely telling the truth.'

Picard nodded and studied the Praetor. Naxus looked wearied and old, no longer the scheming Romulan that was imagined and vilified by the Federation press. He pressed a button, and spoke into a small microphone.

'Send special operative Sela in, please.' Picard reacted in shock. Naxus looked at him. 'What is the problem?'

Riker spoke, voice concerned. 'Sela is an old acquaintance. We have met before. It would be an uncomfortable reacquaintance.' Picard noted both the way Riker chose his words, and also the delicacy with which he said them. He had no doubt that Naxus realised this, but he was too concerned about the unidentified ships to worry about that. It was interesting to see a Romulan (or, for that matter, a human) put the long years of conflict behind them.

'Oh, and what makes you think that, Commander Riker?' The icy voice of Sela carried over the shoulder of the _Enterprise _officer. She walked around to face the Praetor. She bowed to him. She turned and faced Picard, an icy smile on her face. 

Again, Picard was amazed by the striking resemblance that Sela bore to his late security officer. If he hadn't been at his former security officer's funeral personally, he could have sworn it was Tasha standing before him. The honey-blond hair, and blue eyes projecting malice towards the trio of Starfleet officers reminded him strongly of Tasha Yar.

Except, Picard noticed, that this ever-present malice was no longer there. As he stared at her, he saw only concerned worry. And terror. That, more than anything, convinced Picard that the Romulans were telling the truth. 

The Praetor observed their reactions to one another with interest. 'Captain Picard, you and Sela must sort out your differences quickly. The galaxy needs you to work together or it may be the end. Sela is the most experienced member of the Tal Shiar on service at the moment. She will be on a mission to assist you with the little information we have on the ship's weaknesses while we are mobilising the fleet to rendezvous around Romulus. She has been fully briefed.'

'Yes, I bet she has,' said Riker, as if on automatic. Picard glanced at his first officer, and was worried to see traces of mistrust in Riker's eyes.

Naxus looked straight at Picard, ignoring Riker's comment. 'Captain Picard, we cannot let our differences split us apart at this crucial time. The entire Alpha Quadrant is under the greatest threat since the Borg first appeared. If we fail, the entire galaxy may fall prey to these things. Can I have your help?' His voice was pleading.

When Picard did not answer immediately, Sela spoke. 'Captain Picard, we have been enemies in the past, but I know how dangerous these ships are. Can we work together just once?' 

Picard glanced at Riker and Troi, who both shook their heads. 'I believe that we can, Sela.' Picard turned to the Praetor.

'If that is all, we shall return to the _Enterprise_. I wish to speak to my superiors.' Naxus nodded, and the two men shook hands.

A new alliance had been forged.

Two hours later, Picard was concluding a stormy argument with Admiral Nechayev in his ready room. Picard glared into the screen. The implacable admiral stared back, equally immovable.

'Admiral, these ships destroyed an entire city with a single shot! I believe that this constitutes a threat to Earth! What about Admiral Paris' warning?' He had to use all of his self-control to keep himself from shouting.

Nechayev was immovable, but as she spoke, her voice became angrier. 'Admiral Paris has been removed from duty after suffering a nervous breakdown. I have been promoted to take his place as Chief of Staff and, _Captain_ Picard, I will not send you any aid to help the Romulans. I believe that some form of Romulan trick has fooled you, so that they can lay their hands on the design of the _Sovereign_ class. If you try to go against me, I will remove your command, and throw you out of the service!' She calmed down. 'I don't want to do that. Leave the Neutral Zone now, and return to Earth.' The screen switched off suddenly.

Picard was left glaring at a dark screen for a second. The Starfleet paranoia against the Romulans ran deep in the Admiralty. 'Like hell I will,' he muttered angrily under his breath.

The door bleeped. 'Come.'

Troi entered the room. 'Captain, may I have a word?'

'By all means, Counsellor,' replied Picard, curbing his anger for a moment, even though Troi would have sensed it the moment she walked into the room. 'What can I do?'

Troi sat, and stared at him. 'I don't trust Sela.' Direct and to the point.

Picard looked surprised. 'Neither do I, Counsellor. Nobody on this ship who remembers what happened to Worf and the Klingons six years ago trusts her. However, we have bigger threats out there that we have to deal with first. Those ships just destroyed an entire city, and the Romulan leader, a man I know for a fact to be calm and level-headed, appears to be terrified beyond comprehension because of them. However, I am pursuing this course because I believe that there is a serious threat to the Federation.'

Troi nodded. 'If they are lying, what do you intend to do?'

Picard paused for a moment, and then smiled. 'We'll see what happens first.'

He got up and walked onto the bridge, followed by Troi. Riker looked up.

'What did the Admiral say?' Picard looked at him and decided that his decisions should not affect his crew if a court-martial was in the offing.

'She told me that we had permission to help the Romulans in any way possible.' With this lie, he disassociated the crew from any responsibility or repercussions for his actions. That still didn't make it feel right, though. 'We will be getting no help, though. The _Azetbur_ is being recalled to Earth, but the _Venture _is being sent to Cardassia to try and get some assistance from the Cardassians there.' Another lie, this one to cover the absence of both the ships on the border.

Riker expressed disbelief. 'The _Venture_? One starship against an entire Jem'Hadar fleet?'

Picard shrugged, indicating, in that simple action, a disgust for Command and a suppressed anger at their decisions. 'It was not my decision, Commander,' Picard replied, letting some of his genuine frustration show through in his voice. 'If I know Captain Mellock, he will not hang around if he's attacked by the Jem'Hadar.' Picard sat in his chair. He looked at Ensign Bridges, who had been allowed to return to duty by Beverly. 'Ensign, plot a course to Korella II. I want to see what has happened to the planet. Warp 5.'

The _Enterprise_ sailed into warp.

Lieutenant Thames stood up from the ops console at last, her legs aching. As she quickly briefed the relief officer, she glanced up at the back of the bridge, where Picard was sat with Riker, discussing a point with Data. She finished her quick conversation and then left the bridge via the forward turbolift, intending to go straight to her quarters.

As she did so, Picard glanced around and made an excuse to leave the bridge via the aft turbolift.

Thames walked down the long corridor, not really concentrating on where she was going, able to navigate to her quarters with her eyes shut. As such, she didn't notice the captain approaching until she nearly walked into him.

She jolted to a halt, staring at him in confusion for a moment, and realising she must look like a starstruck schoolgirl. Picard smiled at her. 'Could I possibly have a word for a moment, Lieutenant?' he asked politely.

Thames gestured quickly towards her quarters, a short distance down the corridor. 'Would you like to come into my quarters, Captain?' she replied, trying to recapture her normal businesslike tone – and failing, quite miserably.

'Out here will do fine, Lieutenant,' said Picard, a fleeting expression on his face. Thames quickly tried to identify it, but couldn't get any closer than – resignation? She herself felt disappointed, but she quickly dispelled the emotion. 'I just wanted to let you know that I was impressed by your taking over the helm duties when Ensign Bridges was injured. We were in a critical situation and you responded admirably.'

Thames barely kept a silly grin off her face. 'Thank you, sir,' she said, trying to make it sound like an officer should do when she was receiving a compliment.

'I'll be entering a commendation for you in the ship's log, and a recommendation that you be moved up to Ops duties as soon as possible. You will be Commander Data's understudy.'

An immediate thought rushed through Thames' mind, too quickly for her to dispel. _Where he'll be able to see more of me._ 'Thank you, sir,' she repeated, and inwardly winced at her lack of professionalism. _And after he's just given me a commendation as well!_

A flicker of amusement crossed over his face, and Thames knew that it had registered with him. She felt a rush of embarrassment flood to her cheeks. 'That's all, Lieutenant,' he said, and walked down the corridor. She turned, in a daze, and entered her quarters.

As Picard turned away, he felt a glow of wellbeing mixed with disappointment spread through his body. He had noted the look of pleasure on Thames' face at being told of her commendation and sideways promotion, but he hoped that she had not guessed his ulterior motive for moving her to the Ops station; so that he could see her more often.

Thames stood on the other side of her door, listening to her pounding heart. _Of course he doesn't_, she told herself furiously. _He's the captain; what the hell would he see in you_?

Thames knew that she had been attracted to him the first time she had seen him, during her time at the Academy. When she had been given an assignment on the flagship, she had been filled with excitement at meeting Jean-Luc Picard in person. Over time, it became obvious to her that he was not involved with anyone, but it was even clearer that he would not be interested in a lowly lieutenant.

However, she could dream.

One hour later, Data looked up from the science console at the back of the bridge. 'Captain, I have had a chance to review the records on the two ships.' At this moment, Sela walked onto the bridge. Data turned his head automatically – and froze, as his memories of Tasha, always close to the surface, came crashing back.

Picard looked at him curiously. 'Is there a problem, Mr. Data?' Data shook his head to deactivate his emotion chip. His face cleared and became impassive.

'No, Captain. As I was saying, the smaller of the two ships appears to be a form of path-clearer. It is launched from the mother ship in order to destroy any major opposition to any main invasion forces, for example, major defence bases, cities, and any form of space defences. Then, a huge fleet of smaller strike craft is launched to make attacks against principal bases for airforces, or strategic military targets. However, beyond this, my conclusions are merely hypothetical.' Sela was nodding silently in agreement.

'This was the way in which they operated against us in the past.'

Suddenly, Bridges said, 'Captain, we are approaching Korella II.' Picard turned around.

'Standard orbit, Ensign.' The _Enterprise_ roared out of warp and slid into orbit around the dark planet. Data moved around to his console.

'Captain, I am not detecting an alien presence on the planet. There is no sign that there is a heavy cruiser or the mother ship near the planet.' Picard frowned.

'Number One, take an away team to the planet. Sela, I would like you to accompany them.' Riker beckoned to Data and Hedly. The four people headed to the turbolift.


	3. Warnings Of Things To Come

__

Chapter III

In transporter room two, the away team assembled for a last briefing. Riker paced before the small group.

'We shall only reconnoitre the city for a distance of two kilometres. At the first sign of trouble, we shall beam up to the ship.' The team assembled on the pad. Riker nodded to Reg Barclay, the transporter duty officer.

'Energise.' The glittering energy enveloped them and they vanished. 

They rematerialised on the planet's surface, in what had been the city's centre. There was smoke and rubble as far as they could see. There was a tall wall to their left. Data got out his tricorder, while Hedly and Riker levelled their phasers. Sela drew her disruptor.

'Commander, I am picking up four life-forms in that direction,' Data said, pointing towards a large building that was tottering unsteadily. Its walls were pockmarked and blackened by flame and debris. The away team moved towards it cautiously. All around them was the silence of death.

Data reached the building quickly and entered through what had once been a door. He looked at burned out debris, fallen rocks, and a horrific sight of a hundred charred and burnt corpses. As Riker and Sela glanced in, the sight they saw provoked them to gasp.

Behind them, Data said, matter-of-factly, 'Obviously, they tried to hide in here. The wall of flame first expelled the oxygen from their lungs, collapsing them. Then they were roasted to death by the fire. A particularly horrific death.'

Riker nodded, still shocked. 'Thank you for sharing that with us, Commander.' The android had the good grace to look embarrassed. 

Suddenly, a stone flew through the air, striking Data on the chest. He looked up in surprise. A man stood up, dressed in tattered and blackened rags, and started to run. Sela raised her disruptor, but a blast from Riker's phaser caught him, and blasted him to the ground. The away team ran over to him, but before they reached him, a hail of stones and rubble filled the air, and forced them away. A few more people rushed out of cover, and started to throw stones at them, but the away team just backed off, and stunned them all.

Riker stood over one of the unconscious bodies, and said, 'We've got to get these people to sickbay.'

The last of the patients appeared in sickbay, stretched out in contortions of unconsciousness, and the medical staff got to work. Picard stood at the back of the room. Beverly pulled off her gloves for a moment and walked over to speak to Picard.

'Captain, they're all suffering from a mild form of hysteria. With the sort of attack they experienced, I can't blame them. They're all under sedation, but I think that I can bring them out of the hysteria.'

'Good work, doctor.'

'I haven't tried yet. Congratulate me when I succeed.'

'Understood,' said Picard, smiling slightly, and he turned and left sickbay. 

The _Enterprise_ hung like a jewel in the night sky, as the search parties finished their search for survivors for the night. Data's group worked under the _Enterprise's_ artificial star.

Suddenly, Data looked up. Several small lights were streaking across the sky to the west. They were getting closer. He tapped his badge.

'_Enterprise_, this is Commander Data. Is there something happening to the west of my position?' There was silence, and then the voice of Lieutenant Hedly came over the comm system.

'Get out of there! Enemy ships bearing on your position! Ten seconds until they reach you!' Data looked up at the lights, and then called to the rest of his group.

'Ready for beam-up?' At the nods from his fellows, he tapped his badge, and opened his mouth -

And a large explosion to his right knocked him over. Laser blasts were spat at the search party as the attack planes sped over them, firing indiscriminately. Data rolled behind a piece of rock, and fired back. He struck the underside of one of the ship, but the blast just splashed against the shields of the ship. It zoomed past, creating a sonic boom.

'_Enterprise_, landing party one under attack!'

On the _Enterprise_, they could provide no help. They were under heavy attack from twenty of the small fighters. A massive blast had marked the beginning of the assault. The ship shook under the continued hail of laser fire as the shields barely repelled it. The panels behind Riker shuddered with the strain.

'Lock phasers!' shouted Riker as the ships split up. The blasts missed wildly. The _Enterprise_ shuddered. Ensign Bridges fought to control her console, but the strain overloaded the circuits. It exploded in her face.

'Shields at sixty percent! Auxiliary power is already diverted!' called Hedly. Riker cursed.

Picard appeared on the bridge. 'Situation!' he shouted, as he fought to stay upright against the _Enterprise's_ shaking.

'Shields at sixty percent! Data stranded with three men on planet's surface! Under severe attack! They just appeared out of nowhere!' The terse report hammered home the gravity of the situation. Picard nodded. Another blast shook the bridge. A spark suddenly escalated into a large explosion. A person was blasted backwards, and crashed into the tactical console, just missing Hedly, who shielded herself from the blast.

'Set course to Romulus! Warp- ' Picard was interrupted by Hedly. Her voice was full of triumph.

'Two Warbirds decloaking off the port bow!' Picard whirled.

'Thank god! On screen!' The _Enterprise_ shuddered again. The viewer displayed the two massive Warbirds, which flanked the _Enterprise_ and fired on the swarm of fighters. A single explosion marked where one of the small ships was hit and destroyed, and the rest swarmed together, and retreated. Picard turned to Riker.

'Tell the transporter room to beam up all of the away teams.'

'Fire again!' shouted Data. A blast of energy struck one of the attack ships. It shook, and sped on. A laser blast exploded near one of the other men in the group, and he was killed instantly. Another beam of energy blew up the ground near Data, sending him flying, but his artificial body resisted the shockwave. He stood to get a clearer aim, and the transporter beam enveloped him and the surviving members of the group.

He rematerialised on the transporter, his phaser pointed into the sky. He just stopped himself from firing. Riker helped one of the injured men off the pad and helped him to sickbay. Before he left the room, he turned to Data. 'Get to the bridge.'

Data arrived on the bridge a few minutes later, from the forward turbolift, to a scene of relative calm. On the screen, two Warbirds flanked the _Enterprise_, the bodies were being moved, and the Captain was helping keep the ship under power at the helm. He saw Data, and signalled for him to take over. This Data did, and Picard stood. He looked at the body of Ensign Bridges, crumpled against the bulkhead.

'Hedly, open a channel to the Warbird leader.' Picard's order was tinged with sadness at the death of a promising young ensign.

A Romulan face appeared on the viewer. Picard reacted in surprise. 'Commander Tomalak!'

The Romulan nodded and all of his usual smugness was wiped from his face. 'Captain Picard, I have been ordered to take you to Romulus. There is a fleet massing there.'

Sela walked onto the bridge. She looked shaken up. 'Commander Tomalak, have you been sent by the Praetor?'

Tomalak nodded with muted respect. 'I have been ordered to return the _Enterprise_ to Romulus, operative Sela.'

Data suddenly frowned. 'Captain....' Picard came over quickly.

'What is it, Data?' Data whispered into his ear, and Picard's face grew concerned. He straightened.

'Commander Tomalak, there is one of the heavy ships approaching our position. I think that we should get away from this location.' Tomalak appeared to panic.

'Quickly!' The screen went blank. The Warbirds turned, and the _Enterprise_ followed. They roared into warp.

Romulus was a bustling hive of activity at the quietest times, and by now, everyone had heard about the heavy cruisers. There was unsuppressible panic.

Praetor Naxus looked from the window of his office. Sela and Picard stood before him. He looked old and weary.

'Our scanners show that the heavy cruisers will arrive in three days, Praetor.' said Picard. 'I would recommend that a full-scale evacuation of Romulus is put in order.'

Naxus turned. 'A full evacuation? Impossible! There is already mass panic; we don't have the ships, and the Federation is too blind to send help. There will be no evacuation. We will defend our territory as Romulans.'

Picard resisted an urge to shout at Naxus. 'Praetor, these destroyers will destroy Romulus. The fleet may stop them, but I severely doubt it. An evacuation is the only safe, viable option.' Naxus shook his head, anger on his face. Sela stepped forward.

'My Lord Praetor, I agree with Captain Picard. A full evacuation of Romulus is the only safe option.'

'_You too, Sela_?' shouted Naxus in fury. 'I thought I could trust a valued member of the Tal Shiar to not lose her nerve, but this is too much! You are dismissed from the Tal Shiar immediately. Return to your cowardly Starfleet friends on the _Enterprise,_ and run away! If you still value your service to the Empire, I will give you a position of power on one of our Warbirds, and you will have the chance to give your life for the Empire.'

Sela glared at him in outright fury. 'I will return to the _Enterprise_, Praetor. You are a fool for not listening to this man.' She stalked from the room.

'Praetor....' said Picard quietly. Naxus whirled on him.

'**_Get out_**!' The pure animal fury expelled Picard. Naxus collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands.

As Picard strode from the room, tense anger written into his every step, Sela caught up with him. 'Captain Picard?'

He stopped and turned sharply. 'Yes?'

'Did Praetor Naxus -?

'What do you think?' answered Picard angrily. He turned as if to walk away, and then faced Sela again. 'The Praetor does not have absolute power, does he?'

Sela shook her head. 'His decisions can be overridden by a majority in the Senate.'

Picard smiled. 'Well then, all we need to do is –'

But Sela was still shaking her head. 'There is no Senate to override him, now,' she said. 'That was one of the reasons for his erratic judgement, I think.'

'What do you mean?'

'I have just learnt that shortly before we got back from Korella II, news came in that most of the Senators have been killed.'

Picard stared, aghast. 'Who by?' As he asked it, he realised it was a stupid question.

Sela shrugged. 'The invaders. Proconsul Neral and Senator Vreenak were on Korella II on a diplomatic tour when the colony was destroyed. Pardek is in hospital on Remus after being caught in an attack on Modena Minor. He's not expected to survive. Losiris, Moren and Legek were all intercepted by attack planes on their way back to Romulus. There's no-one left.'

Picard bowed his head sadly for a moment. 'Then I suppose it's up to us.' He turned and walked away, leaving Sela, surprised and confused by his mysterious comment, trailing in his wake.


	4. Realisation

__

Chapter IV

On the _Enterprise_, Riker looked up as Picard walked onto the bridge from the aft turbolift. 'Number One, I'd like to talk to you in my ready room.' He walked into his ready room without stopping. Riker shrugged, and followed him.

As he entered, he heard Picard say, 'Tea, Earl Grey, hot,' to the replicator. As Riker waited, the characteristic humming of the replicator sounded, and then Picard went and sat down behind his table. He looked at Riker. 'Take a seat, Will.'

As Riker sat, Picard took a sip from his drink. 'Commander, the Praetor has ordered the _Enterprise_ to leave the vicinity. I mentioned the idea of an evacuation to him, and he went mad with anger. He stripped Sela of her rank, and almost literally threw me from his office. The man is not sane anymore, but he is willing to risk the entire population of Romulus in his gamble. Do you think that we should leave?'

Riker thought for a second. 'No, Captain. The _Enterprise_ has better armaments than a Romulan Warbird, and we have already destroyed two Borg cubes almost single-handedly. I think we have the firepower and the reputation to make a difference in a battle. Also,' he grinned, 'I think that our captain has the ability to make a difference.'

Picard nodded grimly, ignoring Riker's remark. 'I agree totally. I asked, so that I could make sure I had the support of my first officer. I would have hated to go against you, Will.'

Riker nodded, and then looked thoughtful. 'Sir, I have an idea. In case you had not recalled, we have a mutual friend on Romulus....'

Picard smiled. 'Oh, yes....'

Sela stood in the transporter room, looking angry and whirled on Picard and Riker as they came through the door. 'I don't agree with this, Captain.'

Picard shrugged. 'Look at it this way. We need to evacuate as many civilians as possible in case we don't manage to drive off the heavy cruisers.'

Sela nodded. 'Very well. However, my position as a high ranking member of the Tal Shiar is not an option. Lists of personnel are kept secret for obvious reasons.'

Picard nodded. 'Obviously.'

A day and a half passed, and a hundred-and-fifty people moved from the surface to the ships above. The fleet built up as Warbird after Warbird arrived at the planet. After two days, there was a huge fleet of hundreds of _D'deridex_-class Warbirds over Romulus. The _Enterprise _made an incongruous, but deadly addition to the defence force.

The second day dawned on Romulus. The cities woke up, and business as usual began to operate. Sela beamed down to the planet to try and finish the evacuation of as many civilians as possible.

Tension ran high throughout the Fleet. Normal Romulan reserve and arrogance had been depleted by the defeats already filtering back to them from far-flung corners of the Star Empire, plus the knowledge that the invaders had once before defeated the Romulan people in battle. Under normal circumstances, thought Picard, as he watched the fleet moving into it's positions, the Romulans especially would have reacted angrily to this – but this was different. There was genuine concern running through the fleet that this was no ordinary enemy that they were facing.

It was Data who noticed the ships first. 'Captain, long range sensors have detected two hundred fast attack planes approaching our position. Intercept in two minutes.' There was instant activity as the senior officers and the Romulans were informed. Hurriedly, the fleet made itself ready.

The first shots were fired at a distance of two hundred kilometres. History always maintained that the aliens fired first, the tiny fighters' firepower splashing against the shields of the larger ships, and the battle was joined.

The fleet held off until the larger ships were in close range, and then the shots were returned, with interest. A blast struck one of the attack planes, and the shield fluctuated wildly, and the craft wobbled before becoming a fireball. A massive explosion blasted two of the attack planes apart, their shields unable to compete against a direct hit from one of the _Enterprise's_ quantum torpedoes. Several shots were fired, but it soon became apparent that the attack planes were only performing a holding mission, their weapons unable to damage the larger Romulan and Starfleet vessels. Three planes fired at the _Enterprise_ at point-blank range.

The _Enterprise_ shook under a torrent of laser fire. Data shouted over the noise, 'The mother ship is coming into weapons range!'

The massive domed shape of the mother ship loomed from behind the crest of the planet like a rogue moon. It hovered for a second, and then large saucer shapes detached themselves from the underside.

Ensign Truper at helm said, 'Captain, there are several attack planes breaking through. Shall we change course to intercept?'

'No!' ordered Picard. 'Take us out at course 000 mark 020, and signal the Romulans to do the same. Head for the mother ship!'

The_ Enterprise_ began to move forward. The heavy cruisers were poised in formation, waiting as the fleet approached. The Warbirds opened up with their disruptors, but the beams of energy were prevented from hitting the immense ships by a field of green energy that materialised as the disruptors struck it, thirty metres above the hull of the cruisers.

Aboard the _Enterprise_, Picard glanced at Data. 'Analyse that shield. I need to know its weak spots. Transfer all information to the Romulans as well.'

Data nodded and set to work. Picard returned to watching the battle silently, legs crossed, glacially calm. All of the action was out of his hands now, and he could only sit and watch.

Data turned to face him. 'Sir, I've completed an analysis of the shields on the cruisers. They are a single energy field, protecting all of the cruiser uniformly. The fighters appear to have smaller, less powerful versions, capable of being damaged.'

Picard gazed at him for a moment. 'I don't like the way you phrased that, Commander. Weaknesses?'

Data paused and glanced quickly at his board, as if reluctant to answer. 'None, sir,' he admitted at last.

Picard vaulted from his seat, galvanised into action. '_None_?' he growled dangerously.

Data looked distinctly uncomfortable. 'I believe that it would take the combined firepower of the fleet, concentrated on one spot in a single, uninterrupted burst for thirteen hours, to break through. And, in that scenario, the shield would be raised again after 8.4 nanoseconds. If there were any break in the fire, the shield would recharge instantaneously.'

Picard gazed at the cruisers before the _Enterprise_. 'Oh, hell.'

The commander of the alien fleet watched with no emotion as the tiny vessels of the Romulan fleet fired on the cruisers advancing on them. It paid special attention to the weapons that were repulsed easily by the shields of the cruisers. The invaders had only developed weapons for their fighter craft to use, and no weapons existed on the heavier ships. The need had not arisen, even against their two most powerful enemies, for the power to destroy a base or city with a single shot was by far the most potent weapon. Or seemed to be. Now, it appeared they would have to change their thinking slightly.

The commander considered dispassionately for a moment, and then gave its orders in one word, projected into the minds of its subordinates. 'Analyse.'

There were a hundred cruisers in all and they all remained silent and ignored the defenders as the tiny fighters opened fire on the fleet from the flanks, belying their size by the amount of fire they attacked with. A salvo missed the _Enterprise_, but instead damaged the Romulan Warbird, _The Talon of Clar Garond_. There was an explosion and the Warbird began to go helplessly out of control. Phaser beams and disruptor blasts tracked the fighters, cutting them apart with casual ease. However, the fighters were not the main threat and the defence fleet knew it.

The heavily damaged _Talon_ crashed into the shields of one of the destroyers. A massive explosion ripped the Warbird apart, but the destroyer was unaffected.

Slowly, they cruised past the Warbirds, ramming those who did not avoid the craft, and ignoring those who fired futilely against the shields. The fighters flitted about, emitting green bursts of weapons fire, occasionally damaging the far larger vessels. In the history of battles fought by the Romulans and the Federation, it was one of the most mismatched conflicts ever.

The cruisers entered the atmosphere of Romulus, going where the defenders could barely reach them.

In the cities, the people began to run for their lives as the destroyers descended from the skies. The mammoth ships began to move over the centre of the sprawling cities, and the Praetorium rested beneath the centre of the lead ship. Darkness covered them for miles around as the shadow turned day into night.

From space, the planet looked as though it was growing massive black tumours.

Below the cruisers, the central circle on the underside of the immense ships folded outwards in six gigantic segments, and a huge pointed spire descended, until it was almost touching the top of the Praetorium. From deep within the ship, a bright green glow emanated, and descended onto the building.

In the Praetorium, Sela pushed her way through the flood of minor officials trying to leave the building, and got to the Praetor's office. She burst through the door, and found Naxus sat in a pool of green light.

She rushed over and grabbed him. 'Praetor, we must leave!' Naxus struggled feebly, but the younger, stronger Sela overpowered him. She tapped her communicator she was wearing from the _Enterprise_.

'_Enterprise_, can you get a fix on us?'

On the bridge, Picard and the crew were unaware of the events on the surface of Romulus. Picard stood and interrupted the call from the surface, his voice becoming urgent. 'Beam them up, now!'

A massive explosion cut him off. Smoke swept through the bridge as the aft consoles blew themselves apart.

Over the planet, the _Enterprise_ lowered its shields in order to beam up Sela and Naxus. It fired one last time at the destroyer, ineffectually. The green targeting beam vanished abruptly. People fleeing from their terror paused and looked back, wherever they were, either directly below the beam, or miles away at the outskirts. The thoughts that passed through their minds were the same.

Was the destruction promised by their leaders going to be stayed?

In the transporter room of the _Enterprise_, Barclay was fighting to get a lock. He energised the transporter and a pillar of light began to form on the platform -

The destroyer fired. A white blast of energy sizzled down into the top of the Praetorium and struck the building. It shattered and exploded from the inside. The wreckage was blown outwards by a massive blast and shockwave that helped to build up a huge wall of fire and destruction that spread outwards from the Praetorium. The fireball ripped apart hundreds of buildings instantly, and the people were fried in seconds.

It spread slowly outwards, allowing those who would be claimed plenty of time to see their death coming.

In the transporter room of the _Enterprise_, the pillar of blue light strengthened and finally faded. Sela was stood on the platform, her uniform and face blackened. Naxus was not there. Sela collapsed. Barclay tapped his communicator. 'Medical emergency in transporter room three!' His voice was panicky.

The destroyers had all fired simultaneously. The cities were being torn apart by flame and explosions. The capital was scoured from the planet in thirty seconds. All over Romulus, the cities were being destroyed.

On the bridge viewer, the crew watched silently as the explosion burnt itself out in the capital as it reached the outskirts. Picard clenched his fist in impotent, mute horror and fury, as the wall of fire vanished. 'Signal Commander Tomalak.'

The Romulan appeared on screen, his bridge on fire behind him and his face a mask of disbelief and grief. Picard realised abruptly that he himself would look the same if Earth fell to the invaders in the same fashion.

'Status of the fleet, Commander?' asked Picard. Tomalak turned a terrible gaze on him, his eyes twin mirrors of pain and despair that made Picard close his own briefly, remembering the same gaze on his crew's features when he had been assimilated by the Borg. When Tomalak spoke, it was in a rote fashion, as though his mind was elsewhere.

'Not badly damaged, Captain. I recommend a retreat.' His voice shook, and Picard nodded, cutting the link quickly. The Romulans would not want to be disturbed.

Data spoke, his voice hushed. 'Captain, I have completed a scan of the planet's surface. Out of a world-wide population of forty million, there are forty-two survivors.' Picard, shocked, sank back into his chair in despair.

The intercom sounded and Beverly Crusher's voice spoke. 'Captain, I think you'd better get to sickbay.'

Picard looked at Riker, and then stood, saying to Lieutenant Hedly, 'Signal to the Romulans. We are heading for the rendezvous point at Oprasha. Maximum warp.'

A few minutes later, the _Enterprise_ roared into warp, followed by the Romulan fleet. Picard was in sickbay.

'Doctor, what is the problem?' Crusher pointed silently into the intensive care ward. Picard walked through to be confronted with a badly injured Sela, lying on a bio-bed.

She grimaced as she struggled to sit up. Picard stayed her motion with a wave of his hand, and she sank back, a relieved expression on her face. Unexpectedly, Picard felt a twinge of pity for her. 'Captain, I have failed to rescue Naxus. It appears that I will pay for my failure.' She coughed once, and her face contorted with pain. 'I cannot help but think that you have no good news.'

Picard was oddly reluctant to tell her. As much as he may have wanted to, he found that he could muster no hatred towards her. 'Romulus has fallen.'

Sela nodded once, as though she already knew. 'How badly?'

'All the cities have been destroyed, and world-wide casualties over forty million.'

'And the fleet?' Picard marvelled at how she accepted each blow so calmly.

'Still in one piece. We are retreating to Oprasha, near the Neutral Zone.'

Sela nodded once again. 'I am sincerely sorry. I wish I could spend my last hours in the company of happier thoughts. It must please you to see your old enemy dying slowly.' She smiled faintly, half-closing her eyes.

Picard shook his head, leaned closer, and took her hand, admitting the truth to her and himself. 'It does not please me at all. I wish you were still alive. I could use your experience.' Sela withdrew her hand slowly.

'Please leave me.' Picard nodded. He spoke to Beverly, quietly.

'What happened?' Crusher shrugged.

'She was caught in the middle of an explosion for a second too long. She has massive internal bleeding, her kidneys and liver are damaged irreparably, her spinal cord is broken, and she is suffering from severe blood loss. There's nothing I can do for her. She's suffering immense pain now, and she's in an anaesthetic field.'

Picard nodded. 'I can't feel any hatred towards her,' he said slowly. 'I know that she's attempted to kill us all in the past, but it's as though she's become a part of the crew, albeit an unexpected part.'

Beverly nodded. 'I know what you mean.'

An hour later, the fleet reached Oprasha. Picard stared at the screen and at the smoke rising into the atmosphere from burning cities. The blackened planet was scarred and ruined from an onslaught of extremely heavy firepower. 

'What has happened?' Data shook his head. 

'I think that the heavy cruisers attacked.' Picard looked at him incredulously. 

'How? The ships only just attacked Romulus. They could not have got here so soon.' The alarm suddenly sounded.

'Long range sensors picking up five heavy cruisers approaching our position!'

Picard said, 'On screen.' The large ships appeared, slowly moving towards the _Enterpris_e.

'Send a message to the fleet. We must retreat to the Federation.' The _Enterprise_ turned and accelerated into warp. The Romulans followed.

Sela died shortly thereafter. Her body was embalmed and placed in a quantum torpedo casing. Whilst the fleet orbited a small star inside the Neutral Zone, the _Enterprise_ launched the torpedo into the star.

To Picard's surprise, the entire senior staff of the _Enterprise _and all of the commanders of the Romulan vessels attended, the latter most likely bullied into going by Tomalak, who was now the most senior officer in the Romulan fleet and someone who had held Sela in high regard. Picard himself had not expected anyone to be there.

The ceremony was short and military-style, and afterwards, the fleet wasted no time in fleeing Romulan space, leaving the invaders in complete control of the Romulan Star Empire.

A few days later, the fleet reached Earth. The high commanders of the Romulan fleet beamed down to the surface with Picard to meet with Starfleet Command.

In a large conference, the fleet commanders were met by Admirals Nechayev, Greenwich and Ross. Captain Picard was taken aside by Admiral Greenwich.

'Captain Picard, we have observed the destruction of the Romulan Empire. The enemy forces are being bolstered by the week. We estimate that they already have the numbers to capture the entire Alpha Quadrant.' Picard was stunned by this casual summary of the events.

'How are their forces being bolstered, Admiral? As far as we understand it, they have only the one mother vessel.'

'Unknown,' replied Greenwich, shaking his head dolefully. 'We have no data on the enemy except that which you gave us, Captain. They've advanced quickly. They have attacked targets seemingly at random along the Ferengi and Klingon borders from Romulan space. We can garner no specific strategy or tactical plan from their ship movements and attack patterns. In light of your involvement in the battle at Romulus, we have decided to establish a Code Factor One alert.'

Picard stared at the Admiral, aghast at the calm and passionless summary of events, told to him by a brass-bound, bureaucracy driven -! He bit off the mental tirade immediately, knowing that Greenwich and the Admiralty were only doing what they could from their position behind the lines. They had not faced the enemy. Nevertheless, Picard felt bound to say, 'You took your time, especially after my warning.'

Oddly, Greenwich ignored it and continued, placidly, 'Captain Picard, I want you to take the _Enterprise_ to Qo'nos. The _Hood_ and the _Thunderchild_ have been assigned to your command. Assist the Klingons in their defence, and above all, collect as much data as possible on the enemy ships. Dismissed.'

Picard nodded curtly, turned., and stalked from the room, temper near breaking point.

In a darkened room at 2300 hours, Admiral Alynna Nechayev sat quietly, before a dark viewscreen. She made no move to activate it. In her mind she watched as the invading forces were reinforced and advanced on new targets in the Ferengi Alliance and Klingon Empire.

She smiled as Ferengi Marauders fled before the city destroyers and as Klingon battle cruisers fell in battle before their attack planes.

As she received her instructions from the mother ships, she nodded slowly at each order. Her task was nearly complete, and she would die soon. She was not afraid to die, and her only concern was that she would be discovered before she could accomplish her task.

And, slowly, almost unconsciously, her hand made its way around the back of her neck, lifted her hair, and felt the tiny, almost unnoticeable protrusion of alien flesh that had possessed her body.

The _Enterprise _arrived at Qo'nos four days later. The _Hood_ and _Thunderchild _were already in orbit and an immense fleet of warships was grouped into five-ship squadrons, surrounding the planet.

As soon as the _Enterprise_ approached the planet, Captain DeSoto of the _Hood_ contacted Picard. 'Jean-Luc, it's good to see you,' said his old friend when his face appeared on the _Enterprise's_ main screen, but his face did not broadcast happiness.

'The same to you, Robert,' said Picard, smiling. 'Have the Klingons been giving you trouble?'

'In a way,' replied DeSoto, 'but it's not been overt. They keep intimating that they don't need help from Starfleet.'

'How delicately have they put it?' asked Picard.

'Chancellor Gowron sent me a message telling me to leave and said, "We don't need any help from Starfleet."'

'That's not like Gowron,' said Riker. 'He's usually much more subtle.' DeSoto glanced at him and Riker amended his statement. 'For a Klingon, I mean.' DeSoto chuckled, and then turned to face Picard.

'Maybe you should speak with him, Jean-Luc. You know Klingons better than most in the Federation.'

Picard smiled faintly. 'I'm not sure that that would help, but I'll give it my best shot.'

'Gowron, I suggest that you evacuate Qo'nos. Didn't you see what happened on Romulus?' said Picard. Chancellor Gowron eyed the _Enterprise_ captain and his two fellows, DeSoto and Captain Latimer of the _Thunderchild,_ in annoyance.

'That would be dishonourable to deny my people such a battle, as you well know, Picard. You have done me great favours in the past and I will now repay you.' He spread his hands magnanimously and smiled belligerently. 'Leave Qo'nos now, and we will destroy the invaders for you. In any case, they will reach Qo'nos tomorrow, and there is no way to evacuate even the First City in time.'

'But Gowron –'

'No more! You may have been my Arbiter of Succession, but that no longer buys you favours inside the Empire, Captain!' Gowron smiled ferally.

Picard glared at him, and then bowed stiffly. Behind him, Captain DeSoto said, 'But can't we-' Picard cut him off in mid-sentence. He recognised the same tone in Gowron's voice that had been in Praetor Naxus' voice.

'Gowron has decided.'

Inside Picard was seething. All those he considered to be far-sighted leaders seemed to have lost their sense of perspective. Starfleet was ignoring the threat and Gowron believed it would be repulsed easily, when the information from his own commanders was telling him something completely different.

He tapped his badge, glaring angrily at Gowron. 'Picard to _Enterprise_. Three to beam up.'


	5. Today Is A Good Day To Die

__

Chapter V

The _Enterprise_ and the other ships hung over Qo'nos, waiting for the city destroyers.

Picard was in his ready room, viewing the records of the battle over Romulus, trying to glean some tactical advantage, when the red alert siren blared. Data's voice sounded calmly over the intercom. 'Red alert! All senior officers to the bridge. Red alert! This is not a drill!'

Picard strode through the ready room doors, and went straight to his command chair. 'Situation!' Data responded quickly.

'Our long-range sensors have picked up the mother ship heading in our direction.' Data swivelled around on his chair. 'Captain, it is travelling at warp five. Their ETA is in three minutes.'

Picard wasted no time wondering how the invaders had discovered warp speed. 'Are the Klingons aware of this?'

'Yes, sir,' said Data, turning back to face the screen. 'Chancellor Gowron is commanding the Klingon Fleet from the _Negh'var_.'

Picard frowned. 'Gowron? Where's General Martok?'

'He and his men are still posted at _DS9_, sir.'

Picard maintained his frown, perplexed. 'I would have thought that Gowron would have wanted an experienced general like Martok to be here.'

Riker and Troi emerged onto the bridge.

Picard glanced around the bridge quickly. All stations were manned and ready. 'Raise shields,' he ordered. 'Arm quantum torpedoes and ready phasers. Move us to attack position alpha. Instruct the _Hood _and _Thunderchild _to move to their positions.'

'_Hood _and _Thunderchild _acknowledge. Captain DeSoto wishes us luck, sir,' added Data. He glanced up. 'Sir, look at the Klingon formations!'

'What are they doing?' asked Riker in disbelief. Picard shook his head, aghast.

The Klingon vessels were advancing forward in a seemingly random pattern. 'That formation was formulated to attack an opponent who was weaker than yourself,' said Picard expertly, 'signifying that you have less honour in the victory than against a strong enemy. They're going to be slaughtered that way. Get me a channel to the _Negh'var_!'

'They're not responding, sir,' replied Hedly in a frustrated tone.

'Sir!' warned Truper, his voice shaking.

Picard watched as the mother ship came out of warp directly before the forward Klingon vessels. Looming above them like a monstrous cliff, Picard thought, even the Klingons must be feeling some trepidation.

It didn't show, however. Instantly, the Birds of Prey leading the fleet leapt forward to attack, raking the immense vessel with disruptor fire. As they broke off and wheeled around, the _K't'inga_-class battle cruisers opened fire with disruptors as well.

Again, the green weapons fire impacted the shields and failed to break through. As the Attack Cruisers fired, Data shook his head sadly. 'Sir, they believe that their disruptors will have better luck breaking through than their photon torpedoes. However, I fail to detect any power losses from the shields.'

Picard nodded, considering, but unwilling to attack unless he knew that he had a chance of causing any serious damage to the mother ship. Beside him, Troi asked, 'Why haven't they launched a retaliation against them?'

The moment the words left her mouth, Data said, 'Sir, I am detecting waves of attack fighters moving to intercept the Klingon fleet. Reading at least three hundred of them.'

'Waves or fighters?' asked Riker.

'Both, sir. Three hundred waves of three hundred fighters,' said Data.

'Sounds like overkill,' said Riker.

Green blasts of energy struck the attacking Klingon ships, who shrugged off the blasts easily, and returned fire. Disruptor blasts struck the attack fighters, destroying three in the first wave, whose fellows broke off and swarmed around the massive Klingon vessels, concentrating on the Attack Cruisers and _K't'inga _battle cruisers. The second wave assaulted the Birds of Prey, whilst the others moved into an intercept vector for the _Negh'var _and back-up starships, including the Starfleet taskforce.

'Ready quantum torpedoes, full spread and set for proximity detonation,' ordered Picard. 'Fire!'

For the first time against the invaders, the powerful projectiles known as quantum torpedoes flew for the attack fighters. Whilst most missed their fast-moving targets, they exploded in the midst of the formation, shattering the formation like a stone thrown through glass.

From the glowing cloud of debris that now surrounded their position, more fighters shot through the remains of their colleagues and opened fire.

Aboard the mother ship, the commander watched this new development with dispassionate curiosity. He once again sent commands to his subordinates. 'Analyse, adapt and terminate!'

Disruptor cannons, better at tracking small, fast-moving targets than the disruptor banks mounted on the heavier ships, fired, blasting the tiny fighters apart. But more of them poured through, firing indiscriminately. So far, none of the Klingon or Starfleet vessels had taken damage, but it was only a matter of time with the heavy pounding they were taking from the attack fighters.

The _Enterprise's _quantum torpedoes hit the shields of the huge mother ship, bringing the green shields into stark relief against the black backdrop of the hull.

Data swivelled, a puzzled look on his face. 'Sir, when we fired the quantum torpedoes, our sensors registered a minute drop in shield power from the mother ship.'

'How much?' asked Picard, sensing an opportunity.

'I may be able to equip a quantum torpedo capable of bringing the shields down with a single hit,' said Data, his mind working at overtime.

'Do it then!' ordered Picard. Data turned back to his console and began punching commands in. Then he hit his console in frustration.

'Damn!' He faced Picard. 'Sir, the power losses have stopped. Their shield is back to full strength! Any further hits will not have any effect.' His attention turned back to the console and his face displayed further dismay. 'Sir, the city destroyers are launching!'

Picard's face changed to a grim expression, although he had known this moment would come. He watched as the immense saucer shapes detached from the underside of the mother ship, and angled themselves for atmospheric insertion. 'Mr. Data, I need those shields to come down. Now!'

Data swivelled, an anguished expression on his face. 'I can't do anything, sir!'

The city destroyers slid into the atmosphere of Qo'nos, resisting the atmosphere as easily as they had resisted the disruptor fire.

On the planet, the same sight that greeted Romulus in the morning now greeted the Klingons. The massive black ships descended and positioned themselves over the cities. A huge ship, centred over the council chambers, covered the First City. The circle on the underside folded outwards, the point forced its way into the sky, and the green beam reached out to cover the council chambers.

Klingon warriors on the ground fired their disruptors in helpless rage at the black hull that blocked out the sky and turned day into night. Green blasts of energy struck the shields, not affecting the city destroyer in any way.

Picard watched the events above Qo'nos with a growing sense of despair. 'Fire all weapons, Mr. Hedly. Instruct the _Hood _and the _Thunderchild _to do so as well.'

'I have lost contact with the _Hood_, sir,' said Hedly as she complied. Picard and Riker looked at each other, dread covering their faces as they contemplated what might have happened.

Starfleet phaser beams now joined the hail of fire directed at the city destroyers and mother ship. The _Enterprise _and the other vessels cruised above Qo'nos, firing at the zones of darkness above the cities. Green shields repulsed the destructive energy with an ease that sickened Picard.

The green beam cut off abruptly; as did the Klingon disruptor fire, mainly from pure amazement. The city waited for a sign. For a long moment, nothing happened.

The destroyer fired. The white blast of energy struck the council chambers, blowing them apart from the inside. The wall of fire rolled outwards from the wreckage of the council chambers. The fire burnt through the city, destroying buildings, smashing roads, and killing thousands of people.

And, once again, the pattern was repeated across the planet.

From space, the Klingons and Starfleet forces watched helplessly as the planet was destroyed. Picard closed his eyes, to prevent them from tearing in helpless fury as he saw the homeworld of the Klingons wiped out.

All over the fleet, in every Klingon vessel, the normally exuberant warriors watched in pure silence and utter devastation as their planet was ruthlessly levelled.

As the fires burnt themselves out, Data spoke, his voice hushed. 'Out of a city-based population of three billion, there are four survivors, sir.'

Before them on the screen, the mother ship began advancing, showing off that maddening invulnerability. Explosions marked where unfortunate Klingon vessels had failed to evade the passage of the immense craft.

The _Enterprise _itself shook under a barrage from the ignored attack planes, whose sustained fire was now breaking through the shields of the defenders. A gout of flame erupted from the hull of the _Negh'var_, followed by the explosion of a Bird of Prey nearby. The _Enterprise _fired a long rippling phaser blast at the mother ship, only to see the shield deflect it.

'Signal the _Negh'var_. We might be able to stop this before the Klingons decide to commit suicide. We can't afford to lose their capabilities.' Picard sat down, his mind reeling with the shock of such significant losses.

A Klingon face appeared on the screen in response to the hail. It was General Kerla, Gowron's chief aide. Fire filled the background, and the old Klingon was badly wounded. His voice was ragged as he spoke, not allowing Picard to speak. 'The _Negh'var _is crippled, Captain, but our weapons function still. I entrust this fleet to you, Arbiter.'

'What about Gowron?' asked Riker, seeing his captain's unusual hesitation.

'Dead,' said Kerla bluntly. 'Flee, _Enterprise_. Leave us and find a way to destroy these fiends. Our warriors will obey your orders faithfully. Avenge us.' Kerla cut the link.

'Situation?' asked Picard. Data looked at his panel, and then pressed a few buttons. The screen flashed, and a view of the _Hood_ appeared on the screen. It was engaged against fifty attack planes, with more swarming to the attack.

'The _Hood_ is badly damaged, but repairable.' Data glanced at Riker and Picard before continuing. 'Sir, Captain DeSoto is dead.'

Riker bowed his head in pain at the loss of his old friend. Picard merely nodded sadly. There would be time to reflect on the death of his friend later. From the looks of things, he would not be the last to fall. 'We need a situation report, Mr. Data,' Picard reminded him.

'Yes, sir,' replied the android. 'It appears that we have not suffered heavy losses. Out of the starships that started the battle, we have only lost twelve, and five badly damaged, including the _Negh'var._ The _Thunderchild_ is undamaged and is heading towards our position. The fleet requests orders.'

'Tell them to follow the _Enterprise_ to Earth,' said Picard as he glanced at the approaching destroyers. Data nodded once and turned back to his console. 

Qo'nos burned in space as the attack planes surrounded the crippled _Negh'var_. A last salvo of fire smashed into the attack cruiser, and it exploded.

As the _Negh'var _was sent to a fiery grave, the fleet regrouped, some ships trailing plasma from damaged engines, others covering the retreat with sporadic blasts of disruptor fire. As one, however, under Picard's command, the fleet jumped into warp, leaving Qo'nos as the second major casualty of this devastating war.

The mother ship hovered over the planet as the city destroyers rejoined them. After the lengthy task had been completed, the mother ship hung in space, seemingly contemplating their next move.

Abruptly, as the city destroyers completed their docking procedures, the hull of the enormous mother ship started to change. It rippled momentarily, spreading outwards from the top of the mother ship and moving down through the rest of the titan. It reached the city destroyers now attached to its enormous bulk slowly, but as it did so, their hulls also began to change. Protrusions of black metal grew up silently, slotting into position as though they had always been meant to be there. Internal power was diverted to these new creations and they glowed with suppressed power.

A moment later, a flash of warp speed signalled the arrival of new ships in the system, and another mother ship slid into orbit alongside the first. And, slowly, the change spread across the airless barrier of space and began again on the second.

The _Enterprise_, followed by the dispirited Klingon defenders, slid into orbit of Earth, into view of the assembled ships already waiting there; the Romulan Warbirds who already knew what it was like to lose your home planet. The Klingons took up position in orbit a comfortable distance away from the Romulan ships.

Picard received a transmission from Starfleet Command in his ready room. Admiral Ross smiled as he saw Picard's face, but it abruptly faded as he realised that the look on Picard's was one of haggard dread and foreboding, not of familiarity. 'Captain,' he greeted cautiously.

'I sincerely hope, Admiral, that you are not calling me to give me another assignment to resist these invaders.'

Ross shook his head. 'No, Jean-Luc. The survivors of the rest of the taskforce in Klingon space got back shortly before you did. Klingon space is being controlled by these invaders now, as is all of Romulan space. We evacuated as many civilians as we could, but I'm afraid that a great number of the survivors are the warriors that fought at Qo'nos.'

'Have the invaders stated any demands?'

'None whatsoever. They just appear and attack the planet.'

Picard sighed. If there had been any communication, the battles that were inevitable could have been averted, or at least postponed. 'What can I do, Admiral?'

'Come to the Council Chambers at 1900 hours. The President is making an announcement, and he wants you and your senior staff to be there.'

Picard frowned, leaning closer to the viewer. 'That's very specific.'

'That's what he asked for,' replied Ross steadily.

Picard paused a moment and then nodded. 'We'll be there.'

The Federation Council Chambers in San Francisco were fairly new buildings, redesigned by Andorian architects three years before. Lofty towers mixed with shorter but still graceful buildings housing the bureaucracy that kept the Federation running. All of the buildings avoided any traces of dumpiness or even the impression of being anything other than lissom and supple.

Picard and his summoned crewmembers, all in their dress uniforms, entered by the tall doors at the far end of the main Council chamber, where the elected representatives of each planet in the Federation sat in state. They marched towards the podium at the far end of the chamber, past all of the staring dignitaries, and lined up before the podium, standing to attention. A moment later, the President entered the chamber. The _Enterprise_ crew saluted smartly as the council members stood. Picard used this moment to analyse the President.

His face was haggard and drawn, and shadows from sleepless nights had grown under his eyes. Picard realised that this was the face he himself had been looking at for the past few days.

Somehow, the President mustered a smile and gestured for the council to sit and the Starfleet officers before him to stand at ease. 'Captain Picard,' he said, turning his attention to Picard personally, ' your distinguished record with this crew proceeds before you in all corners of the galaxy. Under your command, the USS _Enterprise_ has single-handedly repulsed two Borg attacks, and has saved the Federation on numerous occasions. Besides this, you and your crew have the most experience in battle against these alien invaders, and you yourself have proven to be an able battle commander.' Picard tensed, waiting for the bad part.

The President motioned to an aide, who passed him a padd. 'In the light of the recent events I have decided to take immediate action.' He glanced at Data. 'Lieutenant-Commander Data, you are hereby promoted to Captain for an exemplary record in Starfleet and service above and beyond the call of duty on many occasions. You shall take your place in command of the USS _Hood, NCC 42296_, effective immediately.' Picard glanced along the line at Data, noting that Troi, Riker and the others had done the same, Riker to shake his hand and Troi to kiss him on the cheek, having been the closest to the android. Picard nodded once to his former second officer, but immediately turned to face the President, suspecting his intent.

'Lieutenant-Commander Geordi La Forge, you are hereby promoted to Commander for your long and exemplary service aboard the USS _Enterprise_.' Geordi smiled for a moment, and then his face fell. 'You are also reassigned to USS _Hood_.' Picard's suspicions immediately flared into full realisation.

'Commander William T. Riker, you are hereby promoted to Captain for an outstanding record of service in Starfleet, not just with the _Enterpris_e crew, but with all of your assignments. You will take command of USS _Enterprise, NCC 1701-E_, effective immediately.' Riker smiled briefly at getting his first command, acknowledging the applause that roared around the chambers, but his pleasure was tempered by the awareness that he was obviously replacing Picard in command.

Riker and the crew all looked towards their captain, whose face was pale. The President looked at him silently for a moment as did the entire chamber, which seemed to hold it's collective breath.

Finally something gave. 'Captain Jean-Luc Picard, you have served the Federation faithfully and successfully for your entire career. Thus, I have personally created a new position, which will last for the duration of your lifetime, but will not be passed on after your death, be it before the successful conclusion of this war, or before.

'Jean-Luc Picard, you are now the Grand Admiral of the Federation Starfleet. Your responsibilities are to the UFP alone. You will have complete authority within the bounds of Starfleet, and outside those boundaries, any decisions you make can only be overridden by Presidential authority.'

There was complete and utter silence in the hall for a moment. The Starfleet Admirals, all of whom had outranked Picard less than a minute ago stared, aghast, at the newly minted Grand Admiral. The _Enterprise_ crew all stared at Picard, realising that their time together was over. The council members waited a long moment, and then broke into thunderous applause.

And, with the applause washing over him, Jean-Luc Picard looked as though he were about to faint.

After several long minutes, during which the stunned Starfleet Admiralty and officers of the USS _Enterprise_ had joined the applause, the President turned to look along the hall. 'Other reassignment orders and promotions will come via the normal routes for all of you stood before me today. I congratulate all of you who are promoted. We need your expertise all over the Fleet, not just keeping our eggs in one basket.'

The President turned as one of his aides caught his attention. The council members strained to catch a whisper of what was being said, as they saw the President's face suddenly turn pale. A moment later, he turned back to face them, but took a moment to steady his voice before speaking. He failed.

'I have just been given disturbing information. The invaders have attacked and devastated large swathes of the Ferengi Alliance and Cardassian Union. A fleet of Ferengi and Cardassian civilians is headed for Earth while their warfleets attempt to cover their retreat. It is estimated that the invaders will be ready for an assault on Earth and the Federation in approximately twelve standard days.'

The council chamber slid into stunned silence. The President seemed to stare into space for a moment, before rousing himself. 'By order of the President as of stardate 50912.4,' he managed to say, 'a full evacuation of all civilians from Earth will begin.'

Immediately after the President had left the chambers, and the assorted dignitaries had left, Picard walked through the lofty halls to the President's private chambers. Activating the knocker, he waited until he heard the words, "Come in," and he stepped through the door.

The President stood before him, in the act of removing his ceremonial robes. 'Jean-Luc,' he said, as though he had known Picard all of his life, instead of only meeting him twice. 'What can I do for you?'

'Permission to speak freely?' asked Picard, his tone that of a raw Starfleet cadet presented with his first inspection.

The President nodded, looking puzzled. 'In your position, we speak as equals.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'Mr. President, what the hell were you thinking of?'

The President lips quirked in an involuntary smile. 'I assume you mean your promotion.'

'My promotion,' replied Picard, tone still neutral, 'Commander Riker's; everyone's. Why break up the most experienced senior staff in Starfleet on the eve of a major war?'

'We have already passed the eve,' chided the President, removing a bracelet from his arm. 'As to your promotions, as I said, we need to avoid keeping our eggs in one basket. One lucky hit to the _Enterprise_, and all of our experienced combat veterans against the invaders have vanished.'

'We're prepared to take that chance,' protested Picard.

The President turned, and dropped the bracelet on a dressing table. He faced Picard. 'Has it ever occurred to you, Captain,' he said mildly, 'that the people of the Federation may not be?'

'Not really, no,' admitted Picard freely.

'You have sworn an oath to protect the Federation and its citizens from attack, correct?' Picard nodded. 'That oath requires to give your lives freely in their defence?'

Picard once again nodded. The President removed his cloak of office. 'Maybe, if you look at the oath in a certain way, it also requires that you keep your lives for the people of the Federation.'

Picard opened his mouth to deliver the automatic protest, and then shut it again, the President's point hitting home. 'I see what you mean.' He glanced up at the President, who was watching him expectantly. 'But this idea of a Grand Admiral...?'

'The Grand Admiral "thing" is solely my idea. I am not sure that Starfleet Command has fully appreciated the danger we face. That's why I didn't promote someone direct from the Admiralty, but rather someone who knows exactly what we face. You are the most experienced starship captain in Starfleet. You and the two _Enterprises_ that you have commanded are the most famous vessels in history since James Kirk's own _Enterprise_. I know that you have the experience against dangerous foes from your logs and also from your face.' The President pointed silently to the marks under his own eyes, and Picard understood. His respect for the man grew another notch.

'We need someone strong to lead us. Someone who can communicate, not only with our foes, but also with the factions within the defence fleet. Your name is held in high regard by the Romulans; you are the official leader of the Klingon fleet; the Ferengi respect you; the Cardassians fear you for your mental strength and Starfleet itself will follow its duly appointed leader. The Admiralty will just have to get used to it,' the President concluded matter-of-factly.

The Grand Admiral nodded, smiling. 'I appreciate your honesty, Mr. President.' Inside, he was confused, to say the least. He had not known that he was so highly regarded in any of the various members of the fleet, except, perhaps, by the Klingons. 'I will do my best. If you will excuse me, I will begin the evacuation of the civilian population.'

The President lowered his voice conspiratorially. 'I'm not sure about Starfleet, Jean-Luc. Someone, or something seems to be slowing all of the moves we've made towards full mobilisation.'

Picard frowned. 'Who?' he asked, his voice matching the tone of the President's.

'I don't know yet. That's one of the reasons I promoted you. You haven't been touched by whatever's wrong with the Admiralty yet. I need you to find out what's going on.'

Picard nodded. 'Understood.' He turned and left, a worried expression creeping over his face.

An hour later, Picard was setting up his things in his new office in Headquarters in San Francisco. Through the windows was a beautiful view of the Bay, and of Golden Gate Bridge. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and for a moment, Picard nearly forgot the danger he and his people were in. Abruptly, the door knocker sounded, breaking him from his reverie.

'Come in.' said Picard. Data entered the room, a smile on his face. Picard looked up with a smile of pleasure on his features too.

'Hello, Data.' The old friends shook hands. 'It's good to see you. When does the _Hood_ leave for Starbase Four?'

Data replied, 'Two days, Admiral. Counsellor Troi has just left for the _Azetbur_, which has gone to rendezvous with the Cardassian fleet. The _Enterprise_ is leaving today, at 1800 hours, to rendezvous with the Ferengi fleet. It will return in a day or so, and I thought you might like to see your old ship leave.' Picard sighed, and sat down heavily. Despite the President's arguments, he still felt melancholy at the memory of his old ship, now commanded by Will Riker.

'Well, they've broken us up, after nine years together, the most experienced single unit in the Fleet.' Picard rested his elbows on the desk before him glumly.

Data nodded and sat down, facing Picard, a look of understanding on his face. 'Maybe, sir, it is time for the name of _Enterprise_ to be carried on by Captain Riker. Maybe it is your turn to hand down the reins, as Captain April, Captain Pike, Captain Kirk, Captain Harriman, and Captain Garrett did before you. I feel, though, that the _Enterprise _and the Fleet will not function as well without you on the bridge of the _Enterprise_; not that I am placing any doubt about Captain Riker's command skills.' Data had to stop. He had nearly said _Commander_ Riker twice. However, his calm words had reached Picard, who had to admit to himself that he was honoured to take on a role such as he had been given.

He shook himself out of his unhappiness. 'Perhaps you're right, Data. I hope you're happy on the _Hood_.' Picard smiled at the android. 'You'll never know how much I'm going to miss your advice, Data.' Suddenly, he glanced around the room, finally looking back at Data. 'What time is it?'

'It is 1738 hours, Cap - I mean Admiral.' Picard gave him a strange look.

'I think I prefer Captain.'

As Data turned and left, the comm bleeped. 'Picard here,' said the Admiral, pressing the receive button.

'Admiral, we've got the secure channel to _Deep Space Nine_ that you requested.'

'Put it through.' The screen displayed the Starfleet chevron for a moment, and then Captain Benjamin Sisko's face appeared on screen. 'Captain Sisko,' greeted Picard cautiously.

'Admiral Picard,' replied Sisko perfunctorily. The pair had still not resolved their differences, despite Sisko's acceptance of Picard's sorrow for Jennifer Sisko's death at Wolf 359.

'I called you because I wish to inform you of the reason that the _Defiant _has not been summoned to Earth to join the fleet.'

'I was wondering that myself, Admiral,' replied Sisko. 'Is it a lack of faith in my crew?'

'Not at all, Captain,' denied Picard. 'I have decided to use _DS9_ as the fallback point for the fleet if we can't hold the invaders here. I need the _Defiant _and her crew in a position in which they can cover our retreat. She's the most powerful and manoeuvrable battleship in the fleet, and I intend for her to enter battle eventually. However, I believe that now is not the time.'

Sisko nodded. 'Why _DS9_ as the fallback rendezvous?'

Picard laughed. 'The most heavily armed and fortified starbase in the quadrant, next to the best escape route we've got, and you ask why?'

Sisko nodded, a smile brushing his face. 'Understood, Admiral. _DS9_ out.'

Jean-Luc Picard sat alone in his office, two nights later. The _Enterprise_ was expected back tomorrow, and the _Hood_ had just departed, taking Data and Geordi with it. He could visualise in his mind the powerful fleet assembled above Earth. The Romulans, the Klingons, the Federation fleet taking shape, the Cardassians arriving in a day, the Ferengi arriving soon after.

His thoughts spun out of control. He had at last been given a position in the Admiralty where he felt he could do some good; and it was just typical of the universe to give him the job just as the entire universe was shot to hell.

'By the Q Continuum, you're maudlin, Jean-Luc.' said a very sarcastic, familiar and unexpected voice from the corner of the room. Picard sat up suddenly, surprised by the voice's sentiments.

'Q! Come out where I can see you.' The lean figure of Q detached itself from the corner and strode forward. He was still wearing the old uniform, with cranberry inset and black shoulders. The only difference was that he now had given himself a promotion to match Picard; once again, as with everything to do with the Q, it was undeserved.

'I didn't like the new uniform, so I'm still keeping this one,' Q said, explaining away Picard's first thoughts. 'I wasn't reading your thoughts either, Jean-Luc. You were speaking out loud.'

Picard glared at Q, accusingly. 'Why are you here? Are you here to annoy me one last time, as I'm now desk-bound, and waiting for these aliens to pounce on us? Is that it?' Q looked appalled.

'No, not this time, Jean-Luc. This time, I'm here to give you some help.' Q wandered around the room. 'I have to say - this office is not as nice as our ready room was.' 

Picard nearly reacted to the "our", but restrained himself. 'Get on with it, Q. I've got a lot of work to do.'

Q smiled once, briefly. 'As you know, the Q Continuum is omnipotent, and our gaze stretches across the universe, but not into other universes. That's all fine and dandy normally, but we have a small problem this time with that. These invaders are from another, parallel, universe.' Picard looked surprised, but he had somehow known this ever since the dimensional rift had been encountered.

Q continued. 'These beings were sent here by an alternate Q Continuum in this other universe. We are trying to close off the dimensional rift, and get rid of this threat once and for all, but I, and the Continuum, need your help.' Picard almost started to laugh at this plea, from a god-like being, but Q's sincere look silenced him.

'If we leave this rift open, then this alien race will destroy your entire galaxy. Normally, the Q would not be bothered, but our counterparts actually created the problem in another universe, and if there's one thing the Q can't stand, it's foisting their problems onto others. Shall I show you the problem?' Picard nodded., still surprised at Q's unexpected co-operation. A double flash of light carried them away.

Picard found himself travelling through the galaxy, past destroyed planets in the former Romulan Empire, and was carried to the planet where it had all started. He appeared on the planet in a flash of light.

Q stood beside him. 'This planet is the centre of the problem. There is a large dimensional rift inside this planet, and it is a portal, put there by the Q in that universe. The Q Continuum in the alternate universe has foreseen the destruction that will arise from the aliens and so they created the rift to move them to another universe from their own, in order to protect their own. Now, I have persuaded the Q in our universe to not follow their lead. We have decided to close the rift, and allow you to destroy the aliens that are already here. To do this, however, we need to create a large energy burst in the rift, in order to aid our energy requirements to defeat this rival Q Continuum. This will close the rift, and stop the reinforcements. Fortunately for you, they need a massive planetary base to even _begin_ work on their ships.'

'So what's the problem?' asked Picard, pleased at seeing Q genuinely annoyed for once.

'We can't get to the rift. It's been very skilfully located in an area of space which we can't get to unless the planet is moved.'

'I can see where this is going,' said Picard. 'You want me to help you uncover this rift, somehow.'

Q nodded. 'It would be the end of your problems. The Continuum in this or other universes do not have the power to reopen it. The invaders will not be able to come through to reinforce their advance party. It benefits us all. Once you do our request, I will never bother you again. The Q will keep themselves out of the affairs of the smaller races. Believe me, you won't be doing with our interference after this.' He could see that the Admiral was wavering. 'Let me show you exactly what you're up against.'

Picard nodded. The flash of light took them away again.

They materialised on the exact same surface of the planet again. However, it was night now, and countless stars hung in the sky. A cold breeze blew across Picard's face. The two men looked up. Q pointed. A massive black circle cast a huge pall above them.

'That is one of the mother ships preparing to cross the dimensional barrier. This is another dimension, and they use this gateway to cross between universes to reach your galaxy.' Q sighed, and looked up. Picard followed his lead.

He gasped. The titanic black ships loomed in the night sky, filling it all around. Thousands of city destroyers followed them. Around them buzzed millions of attack planes. 'If this attack force gets through,' said Picard wonderingly, 'we're dead.'

'Are you convinced?' asked Q.

Picard turned to him and nodded affirmatively. 'Tell me what you need me to do.'

'Easy. Destroy the planet.'

Picard looked at him in surprise. 'I don't have the firepower to do that.'

Q returned the surprised look. 'Of course you do, Jean-Luc. Don't you remember the old type-forty planet-wrecker missiles?'

Somehow, Picard managed to look horrified at the suggestion. Q looked at him unsympathetically.

'Jean-Luc,' he reminded him quietly, 'You've seen what you're up against. You don't have the luxury for attacks of conscience anymore. The missiles must be used to destroy this planet. Billions of trillions of quadrillions will die if you don't do this one simple thing.' 

Picard paused for a moment, but he knew that there was no real decision to make.

'Very well, Q. When do you want us to begin?' Q vanished in a blaze of light, leaving only his voice hanging in the air, like the Cheshire cat.

'No time like the present, Jean-Luc,' replied his disembodied voice. 'Once you get to the planet, I will see you again.' A blaze of light deposited Picard gently in his chair. He had much to think about.


	6. Counterattack

Chapter VI __

Chapter VI

Picard was up and about bright and early the next day in order to watch the _Enterprise's_ arrival with Admiral Bill Ross from Spacedock orbiting the Earth.

The Grand Admiral had been surprised at how quickly the news of his appointment had travelled, even on Earth. The messages of congratulations from his friends and erstwhile superiors in Starfleet's hierarchy had stilled his fears of being rejected and opposed because of his rapid and unexpected rise in the ranks, above the heads of distinguished career officers who had spent most of their lives climbing the career ladder.

Thus, with this heartening feeling of security, he had requested Ross' presence in Spacedock this morning in order to discuss something that was of vital importance to the war effort. However, as he and Ross had walked along the corridor towards the main airlock which the _Enterprise_ was assigned to, he had noticed that depressed and resigned faces he had seen when he had proceeded to his rendezvous with the President's order had now turned to hopeful expressions that followed him along the corridor. For the first time, used as he was to heavy burdens of command, he felt a new weight settle onto his shoulders – that of expectation, and the knowledge that these people's lives depended on his decisions.

Now, staring at the sleek shape of the _Enterprise_, he felt a twinge as he realised that should things go as he planned, he would never command her again. Condemned to a planet-bound existence, behind a desk.

__

Well, he thought, _it's either that or let the planet be destroyed. What a choice. Either way I lose out._

__

That's the burden of command.

Picard glanced at Ross. 'Are you fully aware of the implications of your mission?'

Ross nodded silently. Picard returned the nod. 'Good. I expect frequent reports on your findings.'

At that moment, the airlock at the far end of the corridor hissed open, and Ross curtailed his reply. Riker emerged, and caught sight of his two senior officers.

Ross greeted the captain of the _Enterprise_ reservedly, but Picard rushed forward and shook his hand. 'Will, it's great to see you! Successful mission?'

'Yes, sir, thank you,' replied Riker, slightly bemused.

Picard turned to face his fellow Admiral. 'Bill, I would like to speak with Captain Riker alone.'

Ross nodded silently and left the room. Riker turned to Picard, a pleased smile on his face. 'It's good to see you again, Admiral. We've brought a hundred Ferengi _D'Kora_-class warships to Earth. It was all we could salvage. The new crew performed well.' Picard nodded, pleased. He had suggested the reassignments to Riker.

'With respect, sir, the_ Enterprise_ doesn't feel right without you on the bridge,' Riker added. Picard smiled modestly.

'Thank you, Will.' His voice turned serious. 'Q came to me last night.' After noting Riker's look of surprise, Picard continued, 'He's told me how to block off the reinforcements to the alien invaders. We need to get hold of one of the type-forty planet-wrecker missiles, and destroy the planet that we first encountered the aliens at.' He looked at Riker, who frowned.

'I thought we'd made it a policy never to trust Q.'

'You're right of course,' replied Picard, although he smiled slightly as he turned to look at the distant shape of the _Enterprise_. 'However, he seemed sincere enough. He doesn't have a style of lying. Half-truths... yes, but never straight lies.' He stared into Riker's eyes, making sure that the younger man understood his requests. 'I need the _Enterprise _for this, Will.'

'You've got it,' said Riker immediately. 'The moment that you call, we'll be there.'

Picard nodded, having expected Riker's response. 'However, I also need Data and Geordi on the _Enterprise_ as well. Geordi had experience with planet-wreckers on the USS _Victory_, and I just feel secure having Data along anyway. Unfortunately, they're on the _Hood_, at Starbase Four. They won't get back for a day.' Riker nodded, not expressing the trepidation Picard knew that he had to feel.

'You have my support. But I know that Starfleet won't sanction this mission. It does go against Starfleet procedure.'

Picard turned and looked out at the sleek shape of the _Enterprise_ across the docking bay. 'I _am_ Starfleet. My duties are total administration of Starfleet, and I only answer to the President.' He smiled to himself, as if at some private joke. Riker had an idea.

'If you want to get Data and Geordi back here quickly, then you can arrange for either the _Hood_ to return, or for Data and Geordi to return to Earth.' Picard nodded.

'I've already done so, Captain,' he said. There was a pause while Riker watched two engineers walk past with a piece of equipment, bound for the _Enterprise_. Few of the crew would leave by this entrance – an old and rarely used airlock, now kept open for repair crews and engineers to have easy access, Picard had chosen it to have a quiet talk with Riker.

'Captain,' said Riker carefully after a moment's thought, 'why do we have to steal this missile? Surely, if you are only answerable to the President, then why don't you just requisition it for the war? Even if Starfleet as a whole opposes the mission, you can still go ahead with it and damn it all.'

Picard smiled involuntarily at the trace of Riker's old impetuosity. 'I know this, but unfortunately, Starfleet has still not yet woken up to this war, for a reason that I believe I've uncovered.' At Riker's inquiring look, Picard held up a hand. 'That's all you need to know for the moment, Will. I've tried my best, but the Admiralty does not seem to recognise the importance of this mission. They do not realise, except for a few individuals like Admiral Paris, that the Aralla are more deadly than anything we've faced before. Thanks to Admiral Nechayev's influence, many of them still believe that it is a Romulan plot.'

Riker frowned. 'Admiral Nechayev's influence?'

Picard sighed. 'Admiral Nechayev, for all her ability, is sometimes a little narrow-minded. She apparently opposed my appointment, or at least believed that my position should go to someone else.'

'Like herself?'

Picard shot Riker a hard look. 'Whatever you may think of her privately, she is still your commanding officer, Captain!'

Riker nodded, surprised at Picard's reaction. Picard's expression softened. 'Sorry, Will. I'm uncomfortable about going behind Starfleet's back. I have not got time to go through the proper channels before the Aralla become too powerful to make the loss of their supply base a big blow.

'There are no planet-wrecker warheads left, but the plans to create them still exist. However, these are restricted to no code-level other than that provided by the President and all the Fleet Admirals together. Even I can't go over the head of Starfleet with that sort of protection, and obviously, Admiral Nechayev is a Fleet Admiral, and her co-operation would be extremely unlikely, even if she hadn't vanished. The plans will be noticed as having gone missing as soon as they leave the library system – no copies - and so, to get the missile casing through legal channels would connect me with the theft of the plans of the warhead. It must look like a theft by a totally unconnected party.'

'And when we destroy the planet in the Neutral Zone? Won't Starfleet realise what happened then?'

'It'll be too late by then.' Picard smiled slightly. 'Crimes only occur if they cause pain to the majority.'

Riker nodded, not accepting Picard's philosophy, but agreeing with his superior officer's judgement of the situation. Something that Picard had said came back to him, and he frowned. 'Admiral Nechayev has vanished?'

Picard drew Riker aside a little further, trying to make his voice unaffected, but glimmers of dark anger shone through. 'About four days ago, she left her office in Starfleet Headquarters, and hasn't been seen again since. I have no idea where she is or what she's doing – and in the middle of a war situation, that's not good.'

Riker nodded understandingly. 'I understand that Admiral Paris was taken into hospital shortly after our first warnings about the alien ships.'

'Yes, I spoke to him a couple of days ago.'

Riker did a double-take. 'It was said he had had a nervous breakdown and was incommunicado.'

Picard smiled, but there was no humour in the expression. 'When I went to see him he was fine, and unable to understand why he was there. Apparently, he fell asleep one evening, and woke up there. The doctors can't find anything psychologically or physically wrong with him, but they received orders from Admiral Nechayev to keep him there until they received further instructions. I ordered them to release him.'

'It all stems back to Admiral Nechayev, doesn't it?' said Riker.

Picard nodded grimly. 'I've set Admirals Ross and Paris to work trying to locate her.'

Riker nodded thoughtfully and then changed the subject to one that had been bothering him for a while. 'Has the warhead been replicated yet?'

'We're not replicating it, Will,' said Picard with a smile at Riker's discomfort about the entire idea. 'Geordi says that since we have the time, he's going to build it by hand, to make sure that he gets it right first time.'

Riker smiled. 'That sounds like Geordi. How come he knows so much about these things?'

'They were originally installed on the _Constellation_-class starships like the _Victory_, so Geordi has had some experience using them. The official reason was in case of a war against the Klingons.'

'I can't believe that Starfleet would knowingly sanction anything like that, even against the Klingons at the time,' said Riker.

'And you'd be right,' replied Picard. 'I've done a little digging in my short time as Grand Admiral, and I've discovered that Starfleet not only knew about the threat the Romulans faced all that time ago, but took active steps to prevent it from happening to the Federation. The planet-wrecker was conceived as the only weapon we could produce that could harm ships of that size.'

'But we know better now they've arrived at last.'

Picard winced and nodded. 'That's all too true. Even something as abominably powerful as these missiles wouldn't penetrate their shielding. Once the immediate threat had passed, Starfleet, realising what a threat to galactic peace they were, withdrew all the missiles, decommissioned them, and buried the evidence. Until now.'

Riker nodded. 'It seems that they're likely to finally answer their calling.'

Picard turned to look at the _Enterprise_. 'I only hope that it's not too late.'

Two figures left Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco in the early hours of the morning, and headed towards the air tram park. They both wore Starfleet combat uniforms, basically for the dark content of the material.

There was a sleepy guard on attendance. He sat in his chair at the front of the tram, dozing. Suddenly, he was rudely awoken when he was thrown out of the tram by a masked figure that suddenly emerged from the darkness.

'Hey! Whatcha doin'....' He broke off as he found a phaser hurriedly thrust into his face. The figure was dark against the skyline, but he could easily make out the figure's long blonde hair.

'You will find that my argument is extremely persuasive, sir.' The voice was an American contralto. The guard gulped.

'I'll go and sit somewhere else, shall I?' The figure nodded.

'Why don't you go and do that?' The guard turned and walked towards the park. The figure watched him go, and then entered the tram. The door closed, and the tram powered up and moved away from the headquarters.

The guard walked into the park, and lay down on a bench. 'I've got to stop eating cheese before I go to sleep,' he complained to himself.

The tram moved silently through the night, the two Starfleet officers controlling it professionally. Earlier that day, Picard had recalled Data and Geordi to Earth, on a mission of supreme importance to the war. Then, that night, Ghia Hedly and Will Riker had left the Headquarters to steal a planet-wrecker.

It would raise too many questions, Picard had said, if they had merely requisitioned it. Questions from Starfleet, and from the other races now assembled at Earth, over why Starfleet had a weapon as powerful as a planet-wrecker still in its armouries. Questions that could cause a split at a critical time.

Riker slowed the tram down as they pulled into Houston, and they disembarked. Before them was the looming shape of the Starfleet museum facility. Still open at this late hour, it was designed to give people access at all times, if they had come from another planet and were not yet used to the length of Terran days.

The museum housed only one missile, in a section designated USS _Enterprise NCC 1701 - NCC 1701-E._ Riker had never failed to be amused that he was already considered worth putting in a museum at such an early age. Part of the _Enterprise-B's _complement, the only planet-wrecker assigned to a ship other than the _Constellation_-class, it was the only planet-wrecker that had survived the last mission of Harriman's ill-fated command. 

Riker turned a corner – and stopped, staring up at the missile in all its dark glory.

Unarmed, it was still an imposing and worrying sight. Encased in a black torpedo casing that was twice the size of a normal torpedo, it loomed before them, like a black slug. Hedly stared at it for a moment and then hit her commbadge.

'Hedly to Thames. Objective achieved. Give us four minutes to get clear of the building, and then energise.' There was an acknowledgement from the young bridge lieutenant.

Now came the dangerous part for the two _Enterprise_ officers. To beam something from the museum would set off alarms all through the building. Security guards would come out of every room and alcove on the city, and two ships in space would begin to search for any ship that had beamed the object out of the museum. They also knew that the search would be much more intense for something as dangerous as a planet-wrecker missile.

Even though the two ships, USS _Antares _and USS _Cochrane_, were not nearly as powerful as the _Enterprise_, Picard would be reluctant to fire on fellow ships at any time, even on an important mission such as this.

The two officers had almost reached the exit when a man stepped from the shadows and stood like a wall before them.

'And just where do you think you're going?' The figure was about a foot shorter than Riker, and about the same height as Hedly, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in stockiness.

Riker pulled up short with a gasp. 'Sorry. We came to look at the _Enterprise_ exhibits.' The figure raised an eyebrow, giving Riker an insane suspicion that he was a Vulcan. The man stepped forward and held out a hand.

'In Starfleet combat uniforms? Can I see your ID's?'

Riker hesitated for a brief second, realising that he had not brought his ID with him. Fortunately, the alarms suddenly went off around the grounds. Taking his eyes off the pair, the man glanced around in surprise. 'What -?'

Hedly moved quickly. Unconscious, the man fell without a sound. 'Saved by the bell,' she muttered. She glanced at Riker. 'The tram park ought to be impounded by now.'

Riker could only agree. Any transporter beams would be immediately tracked to their point of origin, as would the one that had removed the missile from its spot. By now, the _Enterprise _had almost certainly left orbit, realising that the away team was lost.

Next moment, Riker was proved wrong. Abruptly, glittering energy surrounded them and removed the from the museum.

They rematerialised on the _Enterprise_ transporter pad. Reg Barclay and Picard were stood watching.

'Don't look so surprised, Captain,' said Picard, registering Riker's expression of stunned amazement. 'I was beamed aboard immediately after you left.' He leaned towards the communicator on the transporter console.

'Bridge, set course 591 mark 5. Warp 9. Engage.'

The _Enterprise _roared into warp. Riker looked at Picard, not quite comprehending. Picard sighed in annoyance.

'Will, we have the planet-wrecker onboard, and in position. We just tracked Commander Hedly's commbadge, and beamed you up. We are en route for the target now.'

'How did you get the plans?' asked Riker.

'Do you remember that Admiral Paris had access to the archives when we told him about the first ships emerging from the Neutral Zone?' Riker nodded, and then understanding dawned. 

'You went to see him.'

Picard nodded. 'I went to see him. He's in a hospital at the moment, but the doctors can't find anything psychologically or physically wrong with him. They received orders from Admiral Nechayev to keep him there until they received further orders. I ordered them to release him.'

'It all stems back to Admiral Nechayev, doesn't it?' said Riker.

Picard nodded grimly. 'I've set Admirals Ross and Paris to work trying to locate her.'

Riker nodded thoughtfully. 'Has the warhead been replicated yet?'

'We're not replicating it, Will,' said Picard. 'Geordi says that since we have the time, he's going to build it by hand, to make sure that he gets it right first.'

Riker smiled. 'That sounds like Geordi. How come he knows so much about these things?'

'They were originally installed on the _Constellation_-class starships like the _Victory_, so Geordi has had some experience using them. The official reason was in case of a war against the Klingons or the Romulans after the Tomed Incident; they could be used to hit strategic bases with a single destructive shot. The real reason Starfleet even considered using these weapons was in case the city destroyers decided to put in an appearance in Federation space. It's amazing,' he added, wryly, 'there was quite a big scare behind the scenes after that Romulan fleet was lost. Starfleet created lots of emergency measures because of the fear that these invaders might return. However, because it's taken so long for them to return, most of these fallback measures have disappeared in the bureaucracy.'

'Why not use them now?'

'Mainly, they were based on the premise of only the city destroyers returning. There was no contingency measure based on one of those mother ships appearing. We'd never even heard of them. A lot of scenarios concerned planetary invasion, but nobody counted on the sheer number of invaders we'd be facing. I've tried to adapt them, but they just don't work. We'd be better off thinking of something of our own.'

'What about the planet-wrecker?'

'It'd never get through that shielding. Believe me, our quantum torpedoes are better designed than this monster, and they can't get anywhere near these ships.'

Picard stopped talking and moved to the steps of the platform. 'Anyway, welcome aboard, Captain.' Riker frowned and stepped from the platform.

'Please; it's always Number One.'

The senior crew assembled in the briefing room two hours later. Adorning the far bulkhead of the room was a display, which Data had activated and was currently showing a view of the planet.

'Admiral, as we enter orbit, we shall be in range of sensors around the planet that were established by the enemy. I suggest that we establish a geo-stationary orbit over this continent.' Data pointed to a position on the screen at the equator. 

Picard nodded. 'Good idea, Data.'

Riker objected. 'The _Hiroshima _hasn't returned from Cardassia yet. We won't have any advantages over them, but they'll detect our presence immediately.' 

Picard nodded. 'We'll have to live with that, Captain. It appears that even in our galaxy, the aliens have home advantage. Which makes our mission that more crucial.' He leaned forward and planted his hands on the table. 'I have kept this information secret up until now. The _Hiroshima _was destroyed soon after it entered Cardassian space. Before their destruction, they reported the presence of massive fleets of city destroyers and attack planes, thousands and thousands of them.' He had everybody's attention now. 'They have to lose their source of munitions or, no matter how many battles we win, we will eventually lose under the sheer weight of numbers they can bring to bear.

'If we fail here, we will be defeated eventually. I could not trust this mission to any other crew in Starfleet and I need you _all_ to play your part.'

As the _Enterprise _travelled through the Neutral Zone, her crew remained on full red alert. Fortunately, they managed to avoid any contact with the invaders.

Data shook his head as they passed by another planet that the sensors described as being only lightly damaged. He turned to face Riker, who sat in the captain's chair. 'Captain, I'm scanning planets as we're passing them, but there's no sign of any moves towards colonisation.'

Riker stood, and moved to stand beside Data. 'Why is that so odd?'

'Our analysis of their attack plans shows that they attack planets for colonisation, wiping out any form of major opposition first. Logically, after they deliver their strikes on the cities, the mother ship descends and lands an invasion force, after which they set up a new colony.'

'Sounds logical, yes,' replied Riker. 'Do we have any evidence to support this theory?'

'Not as yet, sir,' replied Data. 'Every time they have attacked us, we've been pushed back so quickly that we haven't had the time to analyse what happens after they destroy the cities.'

'Then it's possible that they are just interested in random destruction, isn't it?'

Data looked unhappy. 'A low probability, sir, but it is possible.'

'Then worry about it another time.' Riker turned back to his seat.

'Sir,' interrupted Lieutenant Thames, 'we're coming into sensor range of the target.'

'Slow to impulse power and enter an orbit out of the range of any scanning devices they might have set up.'

'Aye, sir.'

The _Enterprise _entered orbit in a sweeping arc that carried it out of the way of the sensor scans established by the enemy. It then moved into a geo-stationary orbit around the planet. There it waited.

'Admiral Picard to the bridge.' A moment later, Picard came out of his old ready room. Riker turned to face him. 'Admiral, we're in position.'

Picard nodded. 'Very good, Number One.'

'Engineering to bridge.' Geordi La Forge's voice came out of thin air.

'Picard here.'

'Sir, we've got the planet-wrecker loaded into our forward torpedo launcher and ready when you give the order.'

'Understood, Commander,' replied Picard. 'Commander Hedly, prepare to fire one. Arm quantum torpedoes and phasers in case we have to fight our way out.'

'Aye, sir,' came the quick reply.

A moment later, there was a bright flash in the corner of the bridge, and Q appeared, smiling slightly. He glanced around the bridge. 'Very… stark, isn't it?'

'We've got no time for interior decorating, Q,' replied Riker angrily.

'We're ready when you are,' said Picard, cutting Riker's angry tone off.

'Lock the torpedo onto those co-ordinates, Jean-Luc,' instructed Q, nodding his head towards the helm. Picard glanced at Thames, who looked up, surprised.

'Sir, I've got co-ordinates appearing on my readout, but I haven't put them there.'

'Very well, Lieutenant, transfer them to tactical,' said Riker.

'Aye, Captain,' she replied.

Q glanced at Picard for a short moment, noticing exactly what he had expected; Picard's gaze had been fixed on Thames a second too long. Q turned away, a smile on his face. Picard turned to face him. Even at this critical moment, Q could see the displeasure on Picard's face at having to take orders from his nemesis on his own bridge.

'All right, then, Q. When do we fire?' Q did not answer, and instead lowered his head, with an expression of deep concentration, communing with the Q Continuum. He then looked up.

'The Q Continuum is ready. You will fire in three minutes.' 

'Remember everybody, we've got one shot at this; so make it a good one,' said Riker, making himself heard across the bridge. 

'Admiral, I think that you'd better take a look at this.' said Data, worriedly. Picard stood, followed by Riker, and walked over to where Data sat. He leaned over, and examined the readings. Data said, 'These show the position of large interstellar masses, in particular, comet debris.' Picard frowned.

'But this one's moving,' he said, pointing to one of the formations. Data nodded.

'I believe that is one of the city destroyer ships. It is travelling in this direction at warp five. At that velocity, they will reach here in two minutes.'

Q came forward and put on a worried face. 'I thought that they couldn't travel faster than light.'

'Yes, I know,' replied Picard. 'We noticed that before when they attacked Qo'nos.'

Suddenly, Data's console started sounding an alarm. Data turned his attention to it, and then said, 'Admiral, there is severe seismic stress on the planet. I think it is a new ship emerging.' Picard whirled to look at Hedly.

'How long until firing time?' Hedly pressed a few buttons.

'One minute, Admiral.' Picard looked at the screen.

'How long until the city destroyer intercepts us?' he asked. 

Data replied, 'One minute, Admiral.' Picard nodded, and stared at the screen. 

All of a sudden, Data said, 'Admiral, the new ship is a mother ship!' Picard nodded.

'On screen.' The screen flashed, showing a large black circle emerging from the rock of the planet. Picard looked at Q.

'We must fire, now.' Q nodded. Picard looked at Hedly.

'Fire on my command.'

'Admiral, the city destroyer is dropping out of warp.' Picard nodded, too engrossed to take in the information fully.

'Fire.'

A sizzling bolt of energy shot from the torpedo launcher of the _Enterprise_. It sped towards the planet's surface. It submerged in the sea. A second later, it exploded. The sea suddenly boiled up, and spouted in a massive explosion. The large mother ship that was emerging struggled to free itself. The planet started to shake as the _Enterprise _pulled away. Another huge explosion ripped along the surface, and a ball of fire, at least a hundred feet high leapt into the sky. The flame enveloped the mother ship, covering it from view.

The city destroyer tried to move away from the planet, but it was too late. The _Enterprise_ accelerated from orbit. The planet seemed to convulse as the sea poured into the mantle, and then it exploded. The massive ball of fire threw massive clumps of debris and energy into space. The _Enterprise_ flew away as the massive explosion of the planet caught the city destroyer, whose much-vaunted shields could not protect it from a detonation of that magnitude.

When the explosion finally died down, there was nothing left. It was as if the planet had never existed. In its place, however, was a shimmering field of pure energy. Inside its dazzling radiance, the _Enterprise _crew could see stars against the darkness of another universe, but they shimmered and wobbled against the radiant dimensional rift.

Q stood suddenly, glaring at the screen. He pointed at it, and a stream of light from his hand hit the screen, left the forward hull of the _Enterprise _and struck the portal.

Beside the _Enterprise_, there appeared another glow of energy. Picard surmised that it was the Q Continuum, and his theory seemed to be confirmed when a more powerful beam of energy emanated from the glow and merged with Q's beam to strike the portal. The dimensional gate shuddered and began to close. All of a sudden, however, the beam seemed to recoil and feedback.

Q shook dramatically. 'Jean-Luc, I need your help. We need more energy to block the opposite Q.'

'Lock phasers and fire,' ordered Picard immediately. The blast rippled out from the _Enterprise _and struck the portal. Immediately, the phaser beam seemed to feedback, but suddenly, as if the portal had weakened itself against the Q, the beam of energy from the Q entered the portal, which flared up brightly for a moment, and closed silently. The glow of energy to the port side of the _Enterprise_ vanished as well.

Q collapsed with a gasp. Picard hurriedly knelt beside him.

'Q!' Q looked at him, and smiled.

'It's all right. I am quite fine.' He struggled to his feet and smiled weakly. 'The portal is closed. I will be returning to the Continuum. We will, as I promised, close off our borders to humanity, and your people won't ever see me again. Furthermore, the aliens will receive no further reinforcements.' 

Picard looked concerned. 'Can't you give me any more advice?'

Q frowned. 'I don't believe that I've ever given you any advice in the past.' His body was fading now. 'One piece of advice, anyway, for old times sake; they have no immunity.' Q shimmered.

'Goodbye, Jean-Luc. We two will meet once again in this lifetime.' Q's body flared in a burst of white light, and he vanished.

Picard stood, looking saddened. He turned to the helm officer. 'Take us back to Earth, Ensign.'

The _Enterprise_ turned and headed into warp.


	7. Betrayal

__

Chapter VII

Picard stood in his quarters an hour later, looking out at the stars, when Riker entered. 'Admiral, all evidence of the planet-wrecker's existence is now erased. All the crew have sworn to reveal no information to Starfleet or the Council.' Picard nodded. He remained looking at the stars. Riker frowned.

'Sir, are you troubled about Q?' Picard nodded.

'I started enjoying his presence. He used to spice things up no end. When we first encountered him, he was irritating and dangerous, but lately, I've noticed that he seemed to become more human.'

Riker nodded. 'He must have been catching our evil disease.' He smiled, roguishly. Picard nodded unsmilingly. The pair locked stares for a moment and then Riker left.

When the _Enterprise_ reached Earth, there was complete chaos. While the ship had been in the Beta Quadrant, Vulcan had been attacked and destroyed by the aliens. Only four hundred people were pulled off the planet out of a population of five- and-a-half billion people. The Vulcan Sector Defence Fleet had been decimated in the attack, and contact had been lost with the survivors.

Now the population of Earth was evacuating from the Earth to _Deep Space Nine_ and Bajor, but a lot of the people were still living on the planet.

More ships joined the fleet every day. What was left of the last Maquis raiders fled the Demilitarised Zone, bringing tales of destruction and death as the invaders swept through the former Cardassian Union. The survivors of the Eighth fleet, fleeing the devastation of a chance encounter in the Badlands, brought a report of huge swarms of attack planes leading the city destroyers around to each of the class-M planets in the area.

Through the attacks, more ships and people fled to Earth for sanctuary, escaping the invaders. The Sol system became the last refuge for the Alpha Quadrant's refugees and the last fortress against the attacks of the extra-dimensional enemies.

Picard had called together the new respective leaders of the major races seeking asylum in the embattled Federation. Gul Dukat, leader of the Cardassian forces sat next to Tomalak, last surviving member of the Romulan High Command. Kahless, direct commander of the Klingon forces sat opposite Picard, whilst Admiral Ross, Admiral Paris and Admiral Monnock sat in between him and two high-ranking Ferengi Daimons.

'Gentlemen, I'm not going to lie to you. Our chances of winning this battle are very slim.' At this pronouncement, much to Picard's surprise, the others all nodded their heads solemnly and agreed. He decided to continue, so that they all knew what they faced.

'The city destroyers are protected by what is very nearly an impenetrable shield. The same protection extends to the mother ships, and also, albeit in a weaker form, to the attack planes. At present, we have nothing capable of breaking through their shields. We have very few advantages; even with the full power of our respective fleets combined, we still wouldn't have the numbers to combat them successfully. As things stand at the moment, they hold all of the cards. We may have superior weapons, but our most powerful weapons cannot break down their defences. Our battles with them so far have been inconclusive, at best, in terms of ship-to-ship combats. We can't hurt them; they can inflict only light damage on our ships. We're in a Mexican stand-off and neither side seems able to deliver a decisive blow.

'The situation we face is completely different from any that we have faced before. It is difficult to provide any form of strategy for us all. We know that we must stop them getting to Earth, but quite how to do that has proved to be beyond me. In battle, we must co-ordinate as closely as possible. You all have your attack marks and formation positions?' Picard glanced along the line; one by one the fleet commanders all nodded.

Picard sighed, allowing his shoulders to drop for a moment. 'We must stop them here. There is no second option. If Earth falls, we will be forced from our holdings in the Alpha Quadrant. The invaders will be given time to settle and reinforce their positions and our forces will find it even more difficult to retake our territory once we find a way through their defences.' Even in the midst of a crisis, Picard was determined to sow some seeds of hope. Unfortunately, they failed to take root.

Gul Dukat was first to voice his concern. 'If we do lose, what do we do? The people of our various empires are scattered refugees. Even your people are being steadily evacuated to _Deep Space Nine_. And if we _win_ –' he snorted, ' - what are we going to do? Several cultures and planets have been destroyed, just like that. It is already too late to repair such severe damage without irreversible changes.'

Picard had expected the question; unfortunately, his expectations had still not given a satisfactory answer, and he was convincing himself as much as the others. 'The civilian leaders have been evacuated to _DS9_, correct. The same goes for our civilian populations. However, many human civilians have chosen to remain on Earth, the moon colonies or Mars. Our military leaders have remained to co-ordinate the fleet in battle; I shall be commanding the _Enterprise _in overall command.' He turned his mind to Dukat's question. 'If we lose the answer is simple; we retreat to _DS9_, and make a stand there. If we win, the answer is too unlikely to think about at the moment. We will have to see what happens.'

At that moment, an aide entered with a terrified expression on his face and a padd in his hand.

'Admiral Picard! The sensors on Charon have detected five large objects heading into the Solar System. The description matches that of the mother ships. They will reach Earth in four hours.' Picard shut his eyes for a moment, wishing for more time. He stood slowly and stared at each of the commanders there assembled.

'It has begun,' he pronounced, a tone of doom running through his voice. The others at the table all looked at each other as if it might be the last time they ever saw each other.

As the commanders filed from the room and hurried to their various commands, Picard indicated that the three Starfleet Admirals should remain. The door closed behind them. Picard turned to Monnock first. 'Admiral, you have the most experience with fighter craft and their deployment. You will be in overall charge of Fighter Command.'

Monnock nodded once, in the Benzite fashion. 'It will be an honour, Admiral.' He turned and left. Picard turned to Paris and Ross.

'Have you made any progress in locating Admiral Nechayev?'

Paris nodded and stepped over to a screen on the wall. Picard and Ross followed him and watched as Paris activated it and brought up a list of access codes. 'These are access codes used to get into security access room 1-1-A,' said Paris.

'That's the planetary defence system command and control centre, isn't it?' asked Picard.

'Correct,' said Ross. He pointed to a series of codes, ordered by stardate and time. 'This list of codes identifies the codes of those who have entered or left the room. Every day, some ten or twenty people enter and leave this room. This shows the records up until five days ago.'

'You must have pulled in some favours to get hold of this,' said Picard half-jokingly. Ross gave him a morose look.

'We got it from one of the Romulan Tal Shiar agents in the Romulan fleet.'

At Picard's shocked look, Paris nearly laughed out loud. 'We get it all the time, Jean-Luc. We have their security penetrated just as well, so we don't worry about it.'

'If you notice,' interrupted Ross, who had become more and more gloomy in the last few days, 'there have been no access codes inputted since about five days ago.'

'The same time as Alynna disappeared,' added Admiral Paris.

Picard blinked and held his eyes closed. 'Hers was the last access code inputted.' He didn't need to see their nods to know he was correct. 'And she hasn't come out again?'

'No,' said Ross bluntly.

'Get men down there, Bill,' said Picard immediately. 'She's to be arrested on sight on charges of treason. I don't care how you get to her; just do it.'

'And if she resists arrest?'

'Kill her!'

Admiral Ross simply nodded and left the room. Paris stepped closer to Picard. 'What do you think she's doing in there?'

'I don't know.' Picard opened his eyes, and there was a flicker of pain there. 'Whatever it is, though, she's had five days to do it in.'

Paris nodded once, and followed Ross from the room. Picard was left shaking his head. _How could have I been so wrong?_

In the darkness of 1-1-A, Nechayev sat in the chair, fingers stretched out to lightly touch the planetary shields and weapons control systems. She smiled; a smile of malice. The real Alynna Nechayev had died six days before. All that was left was an alien parasite.

Ross stood on the other side of the door, staring at the security lock in annoyance. 'She's modified it so it doesn't respond to any access code but her own.'

'Alynna never had that sort of technical expertise,' said Paris thoughtfully. 'Her skills were in administration and diplomacy.' Ross snorted in derision. Paris smiled in spite of the situation. 'Diplomacy, I said; not man management,' he added.

Abruptly, the lights went out throughout the room, to be replaced by red emergency lighting. Lieutenant Holder, wearing security gold, hurried into the room. 'We've cut power to this section, Admirals,' he reported unnecessarily. 'However, the power supply to 1-1-A has been isolated to that section, and we can't get to it.'

'But shutting down the power to this section has shut down the security defence devices?' asked Paris.

The lieutenant nodded. 'She won't be able to stop us getting in eventually.'

'That's a duranium alloy door,' said Ross mildly. 'It could take hours to get through.'

Paris picked up a phaser and stepped back to join the security guards grouped behind him, equipped with phaser rifles. 'We'd better get started then.'

The preparations for the battle were completed hurriedly. The fleet waited in between the invaders and the Earth, in the orbit of Mars. Only a small portion of the population of Earth and also the off-planet colonies, all obvious secondary targets, had been moved to _DS9_. However, there were still ten million people living on the moon, and another six billion left on Mars, and eight billion people on Earth. The Earth had lost contact with the Saturn and Jupiter colonies soon after the transport ships had left for _DS9._ The last report from Io had described a large ship moving over the central building.

The invaders were advancing even quicker than before and the approach of the huge vessels seemed to cast a pall of darkness over the entire fleet.

Picard stood in the observation lounge on the _Enterprise_, looking at the distant blue planet and also at the closer red one, around which orbited the Utopia Planitia Shipyards and the entire defence fleet. Lieutenant Thames entered and Picard turned, an involuntary smile breaking over his face. 

'Admiral, the last freighter has left. The fleet is fully assembled in attack formation. ETA on the invaders is ten minutes.' Her voice held a tremble. Picard nodded reassuringly, gazing at her.

'Are you all right, Lieutenant?' asked the Admiral. Thames nodded.

'I'm just... nervous about confronting these invaders, sir.' Picard nodded understandingly.

'So am I.' He smiled again and motioned towards the door. She smiled back, quickly.

Thames turned, and Picard followed her onto the bridge. He walked around to the front of the screen, and faced the crew.

'Lieutenant Commander Hedly, open a channel to all ships.' Hedly nodded, and pressed a few buttons. A beep came over the comm system.

'This is Grand Admiral Jean-Luc Picard to the fleet. We shall meet the city destroyers in ten minutes. This is where the line must be drawn in order to preserve all of our cultures. We must destroy and defeat these alien invaders in order to live on as sentient life forms, and not bow to subservience. This is the first time in history that our races must fight for the right to life. This is our most basic right of all and we must preserve it. Our priorities are to stop them getting to Earth at all costs.' Picard sat. 'All ships, stand by for launch marks.'

From Ops, Thames said, 'All ships, attack on my mark.' Her voice was now studied and professional. Picard marvelled at the change.

He glanced down at his chair's readout, checking the formation for any last-minute mistakes he might spot.

The Romulan Warbirds and Starfleet heavy cruisers, such as the _Galaxy _and _Sovereign_-class, held the centre and the _Enterprise_ stood in the centre of that mass of ships. On the inner left flank were the combined forces of the Cardassian _Galor _and _Keldon_-class warships and the Ferengi Marauders. On the right flank stood the Klingon Attack Cruisers, the _K't'inga_ battle cruisers and the rest of the Starfleet medium starships, such as the _Miranda_-class and the _Excelsior_-class starships. Flanking the fleet on the left and right were the faster attack vessels, the Birds of Prey, Cardassian _Hideki _patrol ships, _Defiant_-class warships, and other smaller vessels. And, as a protective screen for the heavier starships, rested the Starfleet fighter craft, Maquis Raiders, runabouts, shuttles and Romulan scout ships. In all, Picard thought, it was the most formidable fleet ever formed in the Alpha Quadrant – and it stood no chance whatsoever if a miracle did not happen.

Hedly studied her controls and alarm crossed her face.

'Admiral, I'm reading nine hundred attack planes, approaching on various attack vectors fast!' Her voice was tense.

Picard nodded once to acknowledge. 'All ships, raise shields. Fighter squadrons; move to intercept. All squadron leaders; your objective is to keep those fighters off our backs. Ignore the city destroyers.'

The fast attack ships roared in. They fired, their laser beams deflecting from the shields of the fleet. The defence screen of fighters peeled away from the larger ships of the fleet, and dogfights began to break out around the huge starships.

The _Enterprise_ shook imperceptibly. Hedly said, 'Shields undamaged. Larger ships; intercept in one minute.'

The huge ships moved towards Phobos, overshadowing the tiny moon of Mars. The huge city destroyers left the surface of the massive mother ships and formed up, ready to face the fleet before them. They clouded the darkness of space like a dark storm front. They moved around the side of the small moon, and into full view of the fleet.

Three of them headed straight for the Fleet Yards in a close orbit around Mars, whilst the others headed straight for the fleet.

Thames turned to Picard. 'Sir, those ships are different to the others.'

Picard frowned. 'How so?'

'They look the same from here,' added Riker.

'Their basic shapes are the same, sir,' said Thames, hurriedly trying to get her point across, 'but they appear to have developed a different hull surface. I fitted a silhouette from our sensor logs of the first city destroyer to appear over a silhouette of these ships. They didn't quite match. These ships have projections and decorations all over their surface.'

'Purpose?' asked Picard quickly. He glanced up at the city destroyers, and he could indeed make out small bumps and marks were there had been none before.

'Unknown, sir,' admitted Thames, ashamed.

'Lieutenant Hedly,' said Riker, 'send a message to all ships informing them of this development.'

'Aye, sir,' Hedly said.

'Range is two hundred thousand kilometres and closing,' warned Ensign Truper. 'They're coming into outer kill zones.'

Picard said, quietly, 'Thames.'

'Attack. All ships launch attack pattern delta.'

A moment later, the fleet advanced, the flank attack ships sweeping forward to clash with the city destroyers head-on, allowing the heavier cruisers to strike at the mother ships. Phaser blasts and photon torpedoes cut through space, impacting against the shields of the giant vessels in violent explosions, but the city destroyers advanced implacably, shrugging off the efforts of the fleet to slow them down.

Behind them, the mother ships waited, as if they knew that the balance of the battle would change in a moment....

On the lead Klingon ship, the _Vor'Cha_-class _Kral_, Kahless watched the battle with a savage grin on his face. 'This is how a warrior is meant to be. In battle!'

The crew roared their approval as they fired again on the lead city destroyer. As they did so, an attack plane flashed by, and ran straight into the disruptor blasts, exploding in a blast which rocked the _Kral_.

As the viewscreen cleared, Kahless watched as the totally unexpected happened. A return salvo from the city destroyer had been fired towards the _Kral_. Kahless whispered, 'Today _is_ a good day to die!'

The huge blue blasts of energy struck the _Kral_, collapsing the shields and shattering the hull of the attack cruiser. Its warp drive went critical and exploded.

The flash blinded the crew of the _Enterprise _who watched the _Kral_ burn in space. 'That blast came from the lead city destroyer!' said Thames, shocked.

'Get me an analysis of that shot!' yelled Picard, losing his composure for one terrible moment.

Now that they had revealed their secrets, the city destroyers opened fire as a unit, matching the fleet blow for blow from the newly formed weapons mounted on all their vessels. As the fleet hit the shields of the invading ships, their enemy fired back with blue balls of energy that rocked the fleet's ships. Occasionally, shields would fail, and the unlucky vessel would be vaporised in a ball of fire.

Picard himself knew that the invaders had delivered a telling blow, just as he had confidently predicted that they would not be able to.

And he didn't know quite what he was going to do.

The city destroyers came within range of Utopia Planitia, and phaser beams and photon torpedoes were fired instantly, with the same lack of effect that the distant fleet was getting against the main attack fleet. The unshielded shipyards were an easy target for the immense ships, which began firing immediately they came into range. Blast after blast of energy tore into the long thin metal structures, which crumpled and exploded under the hail of fire. Several ships that were being repaired inside the yards were hit and destroyed too.

Watching the destruction helplessly, Picard ordered the fleet to fall back to their positions near the moon. Quickly, the fleet disengaged and fled the advancing city destroyers. As their advance guard descended over Mars, the main fleet pursued the defenders at an almost leisurely pace back to Earth.

As the fleet fled at full impulse power, beams of energy from the invading ships pursued them, cutting into shields and damaging those with less shield strength than others. From the flanks, the attack planes harried them, as they managed to evade the defence fighters pursuing them.

As they reached their fallback positions, the fleet broke into several smaller units. The former flanking vessels now sat in orbit around the moon, using their greater manoeuvrability to avoid the ranging blasts of the city destroyers. Closer to Earth, the larger medium vessels assumed a new formation, forming a literal screen before Earth, one that the invaders would need to get through before they could attack. This was the most dangerous part of the formation, and if that failed, the heavy cruisers behind them, in close proximity to Earth would have to take the full brunt of the attack on their own. The fighters swarmed around the fleet, fighting a smaller, but no less deadly battle.

And, before the fleet, the black ships of death blotted out the stars, looking, for all the fleet to see, like a visible spread of a deadly disease.

Picard took a short moment to glance around the bridge. He and Riker were uninjured, but Hedly had taken a bad fall and was swaying at her console. For a moment, Picard was tempted to order her to sickbay, but he knew that the next few minutes, if they survived, could determine the battle, and he needed his best officers at their posts.

Ensign Truper was bleeding from a cut to the forehead, but Thames was uninjured at Ops. Picard felt his gaze linger on her a moment too long again, his worry about the battle mixing with a concern for Thames' wellbeing.

He felt Riker's look more than he saw it, and covered his slip-up by ordering, 'Lieutenant Thames, bring up a tactical display of the fleet on main viewer.' He glanced at Riker, daring him to say something. Somehow, even in the thick of a desperate battle, Riker found time to grin briefly.

__

Am I that easy to read? thought Picard.

He stared at the tactical grid for a moment, observing with satisfaction that the fleet was moving into position quickly and efficiently. 'Order _Galor_ squadron three to fall back to the third line of defence,' he ordered. 'They're too exposed there.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Hedly, her voice still strong.

'And tell the _Azetbur_ to get closer to the centre,' said Riker, thinking for a moment of Deanna Troi, who had been reassigned to the _Intrepid_-class starship. Picard nodded tersely, acknowledging his first officer's support. If anything, Riker was an even better tactician than he was.

'Sir,' said Hedly, 'the _Azetbur_ reports heavy damage to her starboard thrusters. She's having trouble keeping formation.'

'Get the _Sao Paulo _and the _Excalibur_ to cover her,' said Riker, glancing at Picard, who nodded.

'Aye, sir.'

'Time to attack range,' said Picard.

'Five minutes, thirty-two seconds,' said Thames. Picard smiled for a moment. Data's tutelage had obviously worked well. And, turning slightly, he found Riker grinning at him, a raised eyebrow in place.

'Of all the times –' he began quietly.

'Don't even think about it, Captain,' warned Picard, half-seriously. Riker turned back to face the screen, eyebrow lowered, but grin still in place.

'Cease fire!' ordered Admiral Paris. The phaser beams which had been attempting to penetrate the door cut out, and Admiral Ross glared at the immovable door for an angry moment.

'Has it been reinforced at all?' asked Paris. Lieutenant Holder shook his head slowly.

'The tricorder's not picking up any form of strengthening material. It appears to be just a duranium composite alloy.'

Paris frowned for a moment. As he raised his phaser, his commbadge bleeped for attention. 'Paris here.'

Picard's voice came clearly through, sounding as calm as ever. 'Have you made any progress in getting Admiral Nechayev out of there?'

'No, sir,' said Paris. 'She appears to have reinforced the door, although we're not quite sure how.'

Ross tapped his commbadge as well. 'How's the battle progressing?'

'Not too well,' replied Picard. 'We're taking a pounding. They've forced us back to Earth orbit, and taken out the Utopia Fleetyards and hit Mars itself.' One of the security guards cursed. 'They appear to have developed some form of directed energy weapon very similar to disruptor weapons. If Admiral Nechayev is working with them, she might have given technical information to them.'

Paris glanced at Ross, who frowned. It was the first time that a conspiracy with the invaders had been mentioned. 'Understood. We'll try and hurry things up a little bit here.'

'Acknowledged. _Enterprise _out.' And that was it. No acknowledgement that they might all be dead in less than ten minutes. Picard was never one to give up hope.

'Contact security and get them to bring a demolition charge of some form down. We've got to get this door out of the way now,' ordered Ross. He glanced at Paris.

'What is she doing in there?'

Nechayev sat, silent still, watching the battle in her mind from the city destroyer's point of view. She waited for the right moment to strike.

'We're reading massive explosions on Mars,' reported Thames, her voice just slightly off. 'Utopia Planitia's been levelled; so has Olympus City. Reports of widespread devastation. Heavy casualties, sir.' She glanced at Picard, anguish written in her face.

Picard stared, resolute, at the tactical grid before him, blotting out the deaths from his mind.

'Fighter squadrons report that they're having trouble containing the attack planes, sir,' added Hedly. 'Two minutes until the city destroyers come into range.'

Picard nodded tensely, aware of the figures, but glad that someone was keeping the bridge crew informed. 'Picard to all ships. Prepare for attack pattern epsilon. On my mark.'

As the city destroyers advanced towards Earth, four of their number broke off and headed directly for the moon. Picard watched silently as he realised that the invaders had guessed his battle plan. 'Signal the warships in moon orbit to attack.'

The smaller warships came blazing out of the moon's shadow, weapons ready. A moment later, the Birds of Prey unleashed a savage salvo of disruptor fire against the lead city destroyer. A volley of photon torpedoes followed, exploding against the green shield that shimmered into life as the fire struck home. The phaser beams of the slightly slower Cardassian and Starfleet vessels struck the shields moments later. The city destroyers shook off the attack as though it had never happened. The starships peeled away and came back for another pass, but this time, the city destroyers returned fire, mixing the beams of green and yellow energy with their own blasts of blue fire.

No quarter was given or asked for. The fleet pounded the destroyers, who returned the attack with equal ferocity. The explosions and energy blasts lit up the dark surface of the moon.

'Sir,' reported Hedly, a trace of concern in her voice, 'the fleet reports making contact with the enemy.'

'Main viewer,' ordered Picard, and the tactical grid was replaced by a view of the violent clash going on directly ahead of them. An explosion was first to catch their attention, as a _Galor_-class warship crumpled under a hail of fire. Two squadrons of _K't'inga_-class battle cruisers swept towards the hole that had appeared, plugging it before the enemy ship could sneak through. They immediately began pounding the immense ship.

The USS _Endeavour_ was shattered by an intense hail of fire, and once again, the fleet moved to back up the loss, with a pair of _Galaxy_-class starships, reminding Picard of the _Enterprise-D_, taking their comrade's resting place.

However, on the flanks, two of the weaker starships were failing to keep back a concentrated attack. The USS _Azetbur _and the IKS _Ga'roth _were taking a heavy pounding from a pair of city destroyers and a swarm of attack planes_._

'Get some back-up on the left flank,' ordered Riker, spotting the danger immediately.

'Sir, the _Azetbur's _losing guidance control,' reported Thames, 'They've lost shields as well -'

On the ruined bridge of the _Azetbur_, smoke swirled from blackened consoles. Flames licked at the consoles. A flash illuminated the bridge long enough for Deanna Troi to pull herself to the helm console. She tried to activate the engines. The ship started to pull up. Then, the destroyer they had fired at appeared at close range on the screen. She had only enough time to throw her arms up over her face before -

The _Intrepid-_class ship scraped the shields of the huge ship. An explosion ripped along the side of the port warp nacelle, the _Azetbur_ flashed into light, and exploded.

And the hole was finally opened.

On the _Enterprise_, Riker watched the _Azetbur_ vanish into fiery oblivion, and he stared at the screen, mind reeling, and mouth opening but nothing coming out. His fists clenched and he staggered back to his seat. And through his mind echoed her final thought –

__

Imzadi!

'Admiral, their forward ships are breaking through!' warned Truper.

'Order all ships to attack in pattern beta. Get that gap plugged!' The battle soared to another plane.

As the city destroyers pushed forward through the opening that had been formed by the destruction of the _Azetbur_, the heavier starships rushed in to stop their advance, the _Enterprise _leading the way. A salvo of fire hit their shields, which the _Enterprise _absorbed easily, and then battle was truly joined.

Disruptor blasts and photon torpedoes and phaser beams and quantum torpedoes all flew through the darkness of space. All of the fleet fought with a savageness and a desperate anger that made absolutely no impact. As fierce as the battle raged, the invaders simply closed ranks and battered their way through.

Ships roared across space, unleashing their cargoes of death, but seeing them impact against the shields. Elsewhere in the line of defence, the destroyers began to break through the weak points, faster than cover could be rushed to the aid of those in trouble. The line wavered for a moment, bent and then broke.

In a mass of explosions that signalled the simultaneous destruction of five Romulan and Cardassian warships, the city destroyers broke through and poured through the gap.

Before them hung Earth's glittering prize.

Picard watched this disaster emotionlessly. 'Order all ships to come about and pursue. Tell planetary defence to raise planetary shields and open fire.'

This was the moment that Nechayev had been waiting for. She watched as, aft of the city destroyers, the fleet headed towards them, fully expecting Earth's defences to take up the fight. The city destroyers wasted no time, heading straight for atmospheric insertion. Nechayev joined the battle.

From Earth's surface, rising through the atmosphere, trailing white-hot streaks of ionised air behind, came the firepower of Starfleet's defensive systems. However, they did not hit the city destroyers as expected. Instead, they shot past the immense ships and hit the forward ships of the fleet. In the first confused seconds, two Romulan Warbirds were crippled by the attack and a Klingon Attack Cruiser exploded from twelve photon torpedo impacts. Another phaser salvo ripped apart the USS _Sao Paulo _and damaged the USS _Lexington_.

Picard stared, horrified, as the defences meant to save Earth condemned it to death. 

Paris watched as the security team wrestled the charge into place. All of a sudden a shout erupted from his commbadge. '_Enterprise _to Admiral Paris! Get into that room _now_!'

He stared at Ross for a horrified second. Both of them had heard the sound of explosions behind the transmission.

'Paris here. Admiral, we're preparing to –'

'_Well hurry up then_!' The channel broke off.

The fleet evaded the attack from Earth, but this made it a lot harder to attack the city destroyers. Now, most of the city destroyers had formed a perimeter against the fleet, guarding their numerous fellows who descended to the planet's surface slowly.

From the moon, glowing explosions arose over the cities of humanity's colonies as the invaders delivered a death blow to the moon's population.

Photon torpedoes and phaser blasts from Earth struck its defending fleet.

The city destroyers pounded the defenders.

And from the bridge of the _Enterprise_, helpless to prevent any of it, Jean-Luc Picard bowed his head in shame.

On the surface of the planet Earth, the huge shape of a city destroyer hovered over the Starfleet Headquarters, casting an immense black shadow across the city. The firing circle opened outwards and the point of the superlaser was forced downwards into the once blue sky. The green tracer beam was emitted.

All over the planet, this pattern was repeated. A destroyer hung over the old Houses of Parliament in London. In New York, one hovered over the Empire State Building. In Paris, the destroyer hovered above the Eiffel Tower. All over the planet, death came to Earth.

Admirals Paris and Ross stood back from the door, criss-crossed with wires and charges. 'It's liable to take out half of the surrounding frame,' cautioned Ross.

'Well, if the reports are anything to go by, it won't really matter anyway,' replied Paris. He held out his hand and Ross shook it. 'It's been nice knowing you, Bill.'

They both turned to the security team and said their farewells. Finally, Paris turned to Lieutenant Holder. 'Detonate.'

Holder pressed a button on his tricorder and the door exploded inwards with a devastating crash. Waiting until the smoke and rubble cleared, Paris and Ross eventually came out of hiding. 'Phasers up, and follow us,' ordered Ross. He drew his phaser for emphasis and entered the room.

Above the atmosphere, the defence weapons abruptly cut out. Picard smiled briefly, acknowledging the small victory. 'All ships, attack.'

Ross stepped into the tiny dark room, seeing little but dead, burning consoles and an empty chair before him. Paris nodded behind him. 'The explosion must have destroyed the power supply. The consoles overloaded.'

Ross stared at the chair. 'Alynna?'

As if responding to the last forgotten vestiges of Admiral Alynna Nechayev that this name dragged up, something, dressed in what was left of an Admiral's uniform, lurched up from behind the chair. Ross took a step back, fighting his revulsion, whilst Paris stared in horror and recognition at the thing that stood before them.

Admiral Nechayev's body was mostly intact. Her chest was blown away, as was most of her face. Inside the chest cavity, they could see pulsating organs - and something else. It reared its head and howled at them from its hiding place. And, when Admiral Ross raised his phaser to disintegrate it and simultaneously heard a faint whine above his head, he realised that this abomination was the last thing that he would see.

But he destroyed it anyway.

On the _Enterprise_, watching the effects of the last bombardment, Thames said, 'Their shields are not damaged, Admiral.' Picard took a deep breath. His next order could be his last.

However, before he could give it, Thames voice leapt a notch.

'The tracer is gone, Admiral!' Picard's heart leapt into his mouth.

'It's not possible....'

Thames shook her head in sorrow and final, crushing, humiliating despair.

'They are firing.'

A white beam speared into the top of the Starfleet Headquarters. A single pulse of laser energy was dropped down the beam and a huge explosion blasted the building apart from within.

Ross never had time to realise his death.

From within the burning wreckage, the wall of fire rolled out from the blast, burning the gardens, parks, buildings, and hundreds of people surrounding the building. It swept outwards, tearing through the city, eradicating all in its path.

Several other massive explosions heralded the destruction of Paris, London, Tokyo, New York, Los Angeles, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Delhi and every major city around the world. All of the cities of Earth were destroyed in a single instant by the alien invaders. As it had happened to all others before, the Earth fell in fire.

In San Francisco, the explosion burnt itself out. There was nothing left but a huge charred black bowl where the city had rested before the attack. All over the planet, millions of people were killed as the cities burned under the onslaught of the city destroyers.

Picard stared at the huge explosions covering the cities of the Earth. His heart filled with despair, horror and every other dark emotion that had ever invaded the human heart. Behind him, Riker said his first words since Deanna's death, his voice heavy, 'Commander Hedly, what is the status of the fleet?' Hedly stared at the screen, her eyes twin mirrors of hate, and then forced her attention to her instruments. She fought to keep her voice calm, but a note of anger crept into her voice.

'We still have nineteen hundred ships left, Captain....' Her voice trailed away. On the screen, the explosions were dying out. The crew of the _Enterprise_ watched in mute horror as the world they had known and loved for so long fell prey to these merciless invaders.

Picard closed his eyes in total despair. He had seen this merciless act committed on many worlds now, but the horror of watching it happen to his own planet finally showed him the pitiless destructive power of these silent, invulnerable destroyers.

When he spoke, Picard's voice had, for the only time in living memory, lost all of its power and authority. 'Ensign Truper, set course to _Deep Space Nine_, warp nine.' Truper said nothing, and simply complied with the order automatically, his eyes never leaving the screen. Next to him, Thames silently wept for the dead Earth.

'Lieutenant Hedly, send to the rest of the fleet: We are defeated. Head to Bajor.' Picard turned and faced Hedly for the first time. 'Send a message ahead to _Deep Space Nine_. The Earth is... lost.'

The fleet turned from the destroyed Earth. The _Enterprise_ flashed into warp speed. The other ships followed it. The burning blue planet hung alone in space.

As the commander of the invasion swarm turned away from the screens that displayed the burning Earth, his subordinates could feel the surge of joy and victorious celebration that ran through the fleet. They had destroyed the homeworld of their archenemies, the humans. Their atrocities upon their race had been avenged.

Now, it was time to bring the survivors of that race to justice.


	8. The Road To Veridian Three

__

Chapter VIII

Picard stared unseeingly at the wall of his quarters, his mind numb from shock and horror. Replayed in his mind over and over again was the sight of the black-as-night city destroyers descending to the cities and unleashing their terrible destructive power on the Earth.

A bleep disrupted his preoccupation with Earth's fall. Thankful for any distraction, he said, 'Enter.'

In walked what was, to his mind anyway, the best distraction on the ship. 'Am I intruding, Admiral?' asked Lieutenant Thames cautiously.

Picard paused a moment before answering, having found himself on the verge of saying, _Not you, ever._ 'No, Lieutenant. I was just thinking.'

'I think we all have been, sir,' she replied, her voice breaking momentarily before she regained her studied professionalism. 'You asked to be brought up to date with all of reports from the fleet.'

Picard nodded affirmatively. He gestured to one of the seats. 'Have a seat.'

Thames walked across and sat down gracefully. Just as she turned to sit, Picard found himself staring and shook his head once.

Thames gazed back at her commanding officer, sat opposite her, convinced she had caught him staring - and she was not bothered about it. She hid a secret smile, which had risen unbidden from out of the cover of the horror and misery occupying her mind, and focussed her attention on the padd she carried. 'After the evacuation census that we carried out before the battle, we worked out that we evacuated nearly two billion people.'

Picard briefly closed his eyes, new pain flowering. 'From all the colonies?'

'No, sir. Just from Mars, the moon and Earth. Saturn and Jupiter were hundred percent casualties. No survivors. There were seven billion casualties on Earth, three billion on Mars and ten million on the moon.'

Picard nodded slowly, and Thames marvelled at how he could take on such bad news without flinching, as she had done when she had seen the figures. However, it remained to be seen how he would react under the other news she had.

'I regret to say that I have a further piece of bad news. The President's shuttle never reached _DS9_. The _Devoras_ found wreckage in sector 25549 that matched the configuration and size of the President's shuttle.'

'I assume,' said Picard deliberately, 'that it is reasonable to believe that the President and the council are all dead.'

Thames nodded, upset to see him distressed like this. 'I am sorry sir. Not only that, but the aliens have attacked and destroyed Barzan, Betazed, and Klaestron. Using their projected course and possible plan of attack, it seems that they are heading almost straight for Bajor and the wormhole.'

'Our destination.'

'Yes, sir,' Thames replied. 'However, we've completed an analysis of their new weapons systems and their hull armour. I corresponded with Captain Data about this. It appears that the hulls of the city destroyers and the mother ships are made of some form of polymorphic metal.'

'Polymorphic?' echoed Picard, a confused expression on his face.

'Yes, sir. It's completely theoretical at the moment, which is why I had to correspond with Captain Data. He said it is designed so that it can shape itself into any form it wants. It is theoretically able to respond to an electromagnetic pulse of some form, but tests so far have proved futile.'

'And if they are able to control it someway, creating modifications for their hulls would be a simple process.'

Thames smiled at him briefly, and Picard seemed to react strangely. He covered it expertly.

'Sir, I also checked the research. A polymorphic hull has one major drawback. To get it to be flexible, it needs to be significantly weaker than a duranium hull. If the shields fell, the _Enterprise's _weapons alone would be easily able to destroy any of their ships – even a mother ship.'

Picard treated her to one of his rare, dazzling smiles. 'You have done excellently, Lieutenant.'

Thames received the compliment gracefully, although she was tempted to smile herself. 'I have also completed an analysis of their new weapons systems. It appears they have copied Romulan disruptor technology, although they have necessarily modified it. The city destroyers are only armed with that weapon and, of course, their supergun, but the mother ships appeared to be equipped with other weapons alongside that.'

'Have we any ideas as to what they might be?'

'No, sir. We will have to wait for a demonstration. I for one do not want to find out.'

Picard nodded. 'Neither do I, Lieutenant.' He sat up again. 'I can see I'm not going to regret promoting you to Ops.'

'I sincerely hope not, sir,' replied Thames, earnestly. _In fact, I think you're going to really enjoy it. _

The _Enterprise_ led the fleet into an orbit around the blue planet of Bajor. Further away in space, close to the small asteroid field known as the Denorios Belt, hung the shape of _Deep Space Nine_, the last Federation outpost in the Alpha Quadrant. Whilst the undamaged ships entered orbit around Bajor, the _Enterprise _led those that were badly damaged to the repair bays of _DS9_. As soon as Picard felt that the fleet was able to sort itself out, he beamed over to _DS9_ to meet with Captain Benjamin Sisko in the latter's office.

'Captain, we have a lot of damaged ships, and a lot of injured personnel. I'm afraid I'll have to take over command of _DS9_, until this crisis is over.' Picard's voice was apologetic, but it was an apology that covered steel.

'I understand, Admiral,' answered Sisko, taking a seat behind his desk. 'I assume that we are to use the wormhole as an escape passage in case the aliens attack and destroy both the planet and station?'

Picard sat down opposite, his face creasing with worry. 'I sincerely hope that it will not come to that, but you are correct. We are almost certain that they are going to attack Bajor as soon as possible. I need this station to act as a rallying point and as a base from which to launch a counterattack.'

'Understood. _DS9_ stands ready to join the fleet.' Sisko paused for a moment. 'Are we looking at heavy losses here?'

'No,' said Picard, in a tone that said that he had been worrying about it too. 'They've attempted to go straight for their primary targets at once, and they've practically ignored the fleet unless we've deliberately got in their way. Considering the size of our force, we've sustained only light casualties. However, we're not breaking through their defences.'

'Would it help if we had any more ships?'

Picard frowned. 'My senior staff believe not, but it couldn't hurt.'

'May be we should contact the Dominion for help.'

Picard shot a look at him. 'You do know that the Jem'Hadar force at Cardassia was wiped out totally.'

'Maybe the Gamma Quadrant forces have something we could use against them,' qualified Sisko. 'The Alpha Quadrant forces didn't have all the resources the Dominion itself has.'

Picard nodded glumly, accepting Sisko's idea as a good one; one that he had been considering for a while now. 'I hoped that it would never have to come to this.' A thought crossed his mind.

'Maybe we should hope for another Borg attack. Probably they'd wipe each other out in the battle and we could pick up the pieces.' Sisko failed to muster a smile at Picard's flippancy, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon him. Thus, when the next thought came to him, he was able to disguise his horror that he could even think of such an idea.

He had to say it slowly, so that he could be sure that he had said it. 'Admiral, it might be feasible to bring the Borg into this conflict deliberately. On our side.'

Picard stared at him in utter horror, but Sisko continued, aware of the Grand Admiral's feelings. And of his own. 'It could be done. We could employ you as Locutus of Borg. The Borg that the _Enterprise_ found in the Argolis Cluster recognised you as Locutus, and there's no reason that you might not resume that persona.' Sisko watched Picard, who was beginning to get over his disgust and revulsion and look at the idea dispassionately. 'I know how you feel about it, Admiral. I feel the same way, but it may be our only hope. I believe that this is not the moment, but it might be the only way if we suffer the same fate here as the fleet did at Earth.'

Picard's face was expressing horrors that did not come through in his voice. 'That is, unfortunately, a very good idea.' Something that had been niggling at the back of his mind for a while suddenly exploded into life.

'The Borg!' he shouted explosively. 'The invasive program! Q told me they had no immunity. We could use the invasive program that we designed for the Borg to try to destroy the alien ships!'

Sisko frowned and sat behind his desk, observing Picard warily. 'How do you mean?'

Picard smiled, looking a bit less tense. 'When we recovered Hugh from the Argolis Cluster, we toyed with the idea of sending him back with a new form of computer virus that Geordi La Forge and Data designed. Eventually, we decided that the program's use was immoral, but we kept it in case it would become necessary to use it.'

'And you don't feel that it is still unjustified to use it against the invaders?' asked Sisko.

Picard looked at him stonily. 'They've already announced their intentions clearly enough. In the case of these invaders, I can't imagine anyone would have any moral compunction to not use it. And I think it's time we levelled the scores.'

Sisko smiled ferally. 'Where is the program kept?'

Picard thought for a moment, and then dismay crept across his face. 'On the _Enterprise_....' His voice faded. 'The _Enterprise-D_. Destroyed on Veridian III.'

'You mean it's not kept in the Starfleet Archives... I forgot; Starfleet Archives was destroyed during the attack on Earth.'

'Not only that, it was deemed too sensitive to be released to the standard Starfleet library computer updates, so the only place that it exists in now is what's left of the _Enterprise-D's_ computer core.'

Sisko grimaced. 'Makes it difficult.'

'That is an understatement,' agreed Picard, nodding sadly. 'It may not, indeed, be recoverable at all.'

For a long moment, they sat silently, contemplating the options before them, limited as they were.

Picard finally turned to Sisko, and said, 'We're not getting anywhere like this. What we need is some rest. The defeat at Earth was a savage blow, and I want to let the fleet have some respite before we announce any plans for the future battles. I'll be in my quarters aboard the _Enterprise_.'

So saying, he got up, nodded at Sisko, and left the office.

Ships passed silently through the darkness surrounding the space station near the wormhole, but few passed through the swirling white fire that provided passage to the Gamma Quadrant, nearly 70,000 light years distant on the other side of the galaxy.

A pair of Federation starships did so, however, on their way into the Gamma Quadrant to try to secure a refuge for the civilians of the fleet as the vast force awaited the Aralla attack that bore down upon them with ponderous inevitability.

And, shadowing them, screened from probing sensors by their mass, was a small Jem'Hadar fighter.

Scarred and battered, with very few of it's crew still living, it limped behind the two starships into the wormhole.

Of a crew of twelve, four survived, all Jem'Hadar. The First had died, and the Second, Ramel'Eglek, was injured, but his spirit kept him going. One of the fastest Jem'Hadar to rise to the position of Second, he was a feared warrior and an astute commander.

At the moment, he stared impassively through the eyepiece that showed an image of the two starships before them, and silently blessed his luck that the Federation ships had not scanned his fighter. The cloaking device that he had taken from a destroyed Klingon vessel would have been useful, but his immediate superior, Omer'Igal, had taken it to the other side of the wormhole. By now, it would be incorporated into the Dominion fleet.

Ramel'Eglek's ship had been part of the combined Cardassian/Dominion fleet defending Cardassia. Nearly a thousand vessels, swept aside by the invading forces that obliterated the planet.

The Jem'Hadar had all died, thrown into the battle recklessly and uncaringly by their Founder and Vorta commanders. Those commanders had also died in the battle, dead with their ships, or burned to death in the fires which had consumed the cities of Cardassia.

That defeat had been a severe blow to the Jem'Hadar, not merely because of the loss of their only Alpha Quadrant ally. Before, even when they had been defeated, the Jem'Hadar would inflict severe injuries on their opponent, making their win naught but a Pyrrhic victory, and allowing the Dominion to come back and win a second time. So far, across the galaxy, the Jem'Hadar had been supreme.

And then these invaders came. The fire and death was not a worry for the Jem'Hadar who faced them, but the invulnerability could not be accepted by the Dominion's warriors. Ramel'Eglek could still see the fighters and attack cruisers destroying themselves against the shields of the city destroyers in a last desperate attempt to stop them.

And they kept coming.

Ramel'Eglek removed the headpiece, his calm face revealing none of the inner turmoil that swirled around his mind. He had been known as one of the most fearless and exuberant Jem'Hadar to be produced, and he had been stunned into horrified silence by the onslaught of the indestructible black ships, unable to summon his bloodthirst at the moment it was most needed.

Realising that Omer'Igal needed to be told of the coming force, he had pulled his ship from the battle as the invaders broke through the Jem'Hadar lines. He had later learnt that, aside from Cardassian ships which had broken and fled to the fleet now orbiting _DS9_, his fighter was the only survivor of that fleet which had fallen before the invaders.

The Jem'Hadar could not beat them, he realised, and that realisation was chilling for a Jem'Hadar, close to sedition or even treason. He had twice contemplated taking his own life in the time after the battle, but he had stayed his hand so that he could report to Omer'Igal, who was the greatest Jem'Hadar of all time.

Few Jem'Hadar were gifted as imaginative or visionaries – Omer'Igal was both. He had seen a future for the Jem'Hadar that did not include their dependence on either the Vorta or the Founders. Ramel'Eglek had attended a private meeting between Omer'Igal and four of the most powerful Firsts, one of which was the famed Omet'Iklan, one of the few Jem'Hadar to kill a Vorta and get away with it. It was only a shame that Weyoun had been recloned. Still, his last clone had died in the ruins of the Cardassian capital.

That meeting had inspired his rebellious instincts. That same day, he had sworn his absolute obedience to Omer'Igal, and his army inside the Jem'Hadar. He had more supporters than even the Founders realised.

Ramel'Eglek roused himself from his contemplation, and turned to his Second, if he were to be First. 'Second, when we leave the wormhole, activate frequency 5547, and focus on these co-ordinates.' He handed the other a padd, and the Second nodded silently, not commenting.

Ramel'Eglek fitted the headpiece over his eye again, and watched as the wormhole swirled open at the far end, and space was once again revealed. A few moments later, the starships they had used as cover jumped to warp, and the little fighter was alone again.

The Second spoke. 'First, I have locked onto the co-ordinates you ordered. We are receiving a signal.'

Ramel'Eglek nodded. 'Activate my private comm.'

A flicker of light played over his eye, recognising his retinal pattern, and Omer'Igal's face appeared. 'Report.'

'We were utterly defeated, First,' said Ramel'Eglek calmly.

Omer'Igal drew a sharp intake of breath. 'Survivors?'

'Other than ourselves, none.'

'The invaders?'

'Utterly indestructible. Any attack would be folly at best, suicide at worst.' As he stated the litany of disaster, Ramel'Eglek's voice stayed calm.

Omer'Igal remained silent, face impassive after his initial shock. 'Very well. I will attempt to make the Founders see my point of view. I believe that we shall have to ally ourselves with the fleet massing at _DS9_.'

Ramel'Eglek looked surprised. 'You know of it?'

Omer'Igal smiled slightly. 'We are massing a fleet at these co-ordinates. Join us there.'

'First,' acknowledged Ramel'Eglek with a nod. The channel cut out, and he removed the headpiece thoughtfully.

'We also believe that the attackers are progressing through the Beta Quadrant to meet up with their Alpha Quadrant force in order to attack here. By far the largest proportion of ships attacked Earth, but other starships outside the fleet reported encountering enemy ships at other locations at the same time as they attacked Earth.' Sisko glanced at Picard, who was staring silently at the wall just behind the captain's left shoulder. With a faint grin, Sisko moved to the other side of the room. Picard didn't move. 'However,' he began, 'the invaders have been spotted turning four planets in the Klingon Empire into custard.

Picard nodded once, and Sisko waited patiently. After a short moment, Picard frowned, and looked at the captain. 'Custard?'

'That's what you get if you don't listen to situation reports,' said Sisko acidly. Picard smiled faintly.

'I apologise, Captain. My mind was on other things.' Picard stood up slowly, wincing slightly at a stabbing pain in his back. 'I have decided what we are to do.'

He turned, and stepped into Ops. He looked at Dax. 'Lieutenant, have the _Enterprise _readied for immediate departure. Alert my senior staff that we are leaving for Veridian III in two hours.'

'You're going after the invasive program,' stated Sisko, his tone unquestioning. Picard nodded. Sisko held out his hand, and Picard shook it. 'Good luck,' said the younger man.

'Thank you.' Picard turned, and descended from sight in the turbolift.

Sisko watched for a long moment, and then turned to Dax. 'I want a constant, hourly report from every scout ship we have out there. Make sure no enemy ship approaches anywhere near the _Enterprise_.'

Dax nodded. 'Understood, Benjamin.' As Sisko turned away, she turned to O'Brien, and said quietly, 'What's the invasive program?'

'It was designed to infiltrate and destroy the Borg collective,' said O'Brien. 'It creates a paradoxical geometrical construct within the Collective, which would form a recursive insoluble puzzle. That would cause a fatal overload in the Collective, effectively destroying it. It was designed by Geordi La Forge and Data just before I left the _Enterprise_.' O'Brien's face became worried. 'What worries me is that it's use was vetoed by Captain Picard, as he was then, on the grounds that using a weapon of mass destruction like that was unethical.'

Dax frowned. 'What could have changed his mind?'

Sisko turned to face them, having overheard their conversation. 'We, Old Man, weren't at Earth, or Qo'nos, or Romulus. We haven't faced these invaders. I hate to think what could cause a man like Jean-Luc Picard to turn from his morals like that.' So saying, he entered his office, face perturbed.

The _Enterprise_ manoeuvred away from the pylon, and headed away from the station at maximum impulse.

'ETA at Veridian III, Captain Data?'

'Four hours, two minutes, three seconds, Admiral, at maximum warp.' Picard nodded, and settled into his chair. It was going to be a short trip.

'Ensign Truper, set course for Veridian III, maximum warp. Engage.'

The _Enterprise_ sailed on into the night.


	9. The Name That Tears Apart The Soul

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Chapter IX

The _Enterprise_ soared into orbit around Veridian III, the site of its predecessor's final resting-place. The _Enterprise-E_ orbited the planet three times before its powerful sensors found what it was looking for.

The transporter beams died away, and Riker, Data, Worf and Picard found themselves standing only a few metres away from the wreckage of the _Enterprise-D_ saucer section. The three _Enterprise_ officers carried type-two phasers, while Worf carried a rifle. They moved over to the side of the saucer.

On what had been the port side of the saucer section was a gaping hole on one side which was partially obscured by creepers, and Riker pushed quickly through the vegetation to find an untouched corridor. He breathed in, in surprise. By this time, the _Enterprise_ should have been partially occupied with flora and fauna, and the corridor should not be as clear as this. Picard pushed through behind him, and echoing his thoughts, saying, 'That's odd. The ship shouldn't be clear like this.'

Behind them, Data was next through the creepers, and Worf followed him. They advanced through the corridors, rifles ready, senses alert.

They turned a corner, and found themselves facing a turbolift door. Picard looked surprised. 'I must have been on the _Enterprise-E_ for too long. I don't remember this turbolift.' They entered it and managed to get the roof open. Data was last, looking puzzled at the Admiral's confession to a loss of memory. 

They managed to get onto the top of the lift carriage itself, and began the long climb to the top of the turbolift shaft via a ladder running up the side of the shaft. However, at about level four, they found that the route had been blocked by a mess of fallen girders and struts, once supporting the corridor on deck four, but now blocking the access to the bridge.

Riker smiled at Picard's exasperated sigh. 'We'll have to go back down a level and use the bridge access tube.'

'Correct, Number One,' replied Picard, slipping back into his old protocol again.

They clambered slowly back down, and got onto deck 5. They quickly found the Jeffries tube and began their slow ascent again. As they did so, Worf muttered to Data, 'I'd forgotten how difficult it was to get about this ship sometimes.'

At the final intersection between deck 2 and the bridge, Picard found the tube panel removed and the ladder was slick with some form of liquid.

Data scanned the substance. He glanced up at Picard, confused. 'Admiral, the rim of this panel is covered with a mixture of gelatine and ammonium.'

'Anything you recognise?' asked Riker. Data shook his head, puzzlement still written on his face.

'No, sir. It appears to be still wet.' He closed the tricorder and looked at Picard. 'Sir, whoever left this here has been here recently. I believe they may still be on the wreck.'

'They may be on the bridge,' warned Worf. 'I suggest that I lead the way.'

'I'd prefer to go first,' said Picard slowly, his expression odd.

Worf looked about to protest, but a warning glance from Riker silenced him.

Picard looked at Riker. 'Let's go, captain.' Picard clambered into the tube. Riker, Worf and then Data followed him.

The four men clambered up the ladder in the cramped tube until Picard reached a panel marked 'Main Bridge'. This, too, had a light covering of the liquid that they had found on the ladder. However, the access panel was closed this time, and Picard had to lever it open. It slid aside quietly, and he looked through – to get his first sight of the enemy.

Four creatures stood there, clustered around what had been one of the aft science stations, which now stood dark and silent. They were each about six or seven foot tall, with myriad tentacles trailing from their body. Only two of the tentacles were actually moving at the same time.

Heavily built, they had no recognisable features, or, for that matter, any recognisable face. They had basic humanoid features; two legs and a torso, but no other features that linked them to humans. What might have been the head was recessed into the top of the torso, similar to some of the old drawings that European man made of those creatures believed to inhabit the Asian continent in the fourteenth century.

Picard suddenly made a snap decision and stood, levelling his phaser at the nearest of the four aliens, and said, 'Surrender now, or I shall fire.'

The aliens whirled simultaneously, and seemed to examine Picard for a moment. Suddenly, a tentacle flashed out, and before Picard could react, the weapon had been snatched from his hand. The alien that had taken it pointed it at him. It fired. As Picard fell, it turned away.

Riker leaned over the rim of the tube, and spotted the aliens as he shifted Picard's limp body aside. He fired. The phaser beam caught the alien wielding the captured weapon in the torso. It flew back and crashed into the tactical console. The others looked about stupidly for the source of the attack, and Riker cut another down. He jumped from the tube and levelled his phaser, distracting his attention from Worf, who leaned out of the tube, and fired his rifle twice. The blasts caught the last aliens in the torso, and they went down.

Riker checked Picard's pulse, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. 'Lucky for him that he had it set to stun. Worf, take him back to the ship.'

'Aye, sir.'

Data moved over to the least damaged computer console as the transporter glow claimed Worf and Picard. He attached the power cell he was carrying to the underside of the console, and pressed a button on it. The computer activated and lit up hesitantly. At first, the voice slurred, and then snapped back to full speed.

'Wwwwhaaat ffuncctionnss doo youu require? This computer is programmed for -' Data interrupted.

'This is Lieutenant Commander Data, serial number 428-564-A. Please confirm.' The computer buzzed, something it would not have done while still fully operational.

'ID confirmed.' Data nodded in satisfaction and took a short cable from a pouch on his uniform. He pointed to his cranial access hatch and Riker prised it off carefully, revealing bare machinery and flashing diodes. Attaching the cable to a small port on the side of his head, Data completed the connection by clipping the cable to the underside of the science station.

'Give details of Borg invasive program, created Stardate 45856.9 and download design details into my positronic net.' The computer displayed the information on the screen, and started to scroll it along.

Data read it. 'Faster speed.' The information shot across the screen. When the stream had ended, Data disconnected himself, detached the power cell from the console, and watched as the console slid back into dark lifelessness.

'Captain, we have the required information. I suggest that we beam back to the _Enterprise_.' Riker nodded, and looked around the bridge. He looked down at the alien body next to him and prodded it with his foot.

'Do you think that this is the enemy?' Data shrugged.

'It is highly likely, Commander. However, I do not wish to be pushed into any form of conclusion without relevant data.'

Riker smiled. 'No matter what happens to the rest of us, you're still the same old Data.' He looked back down. 'What were they doing here?'

Picard had recovered from his phaser stun in a rather embarrassed state. When he found out that Data had successfully retrieved the information, he recovered from his embarrassment even quicker than he recovered from his stun. Knowing that the creatures they had faced on Veridian III had been the enemy, he ordered the retrieval of one of the bodies which merely took a stun blast, and the disintegration of the others. He had then accompanied the creature to sickbay, and watched as Dr. Crusher prepared for an exploratory examination.

Picard said, 'What do you know about this creature from bio-readings?' Crusher pointed to the patient monitor, slightly confused.

'Apart from the fact that it's alive, absolutely nothing. There's some really weird readings coming out of it, though. I have a few theories, but nothing concrete until I can perform the surgery.' Picard nodded in acknowledgement of the veiled dismissal, and gave the creature one last angry look.

'I'll let you get on with it.' He walked out of the door. Two security guards, Horner and Cavell, stepped inside the door, and faced towards sickbay, oriented so that they did not have to see the body of the creature.

As Picard travelled back to the bridge, his communicator bleeped. 'Data to Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'Sir, one of the city destroyers has come out of warp near our position. I think it might be a retrieval vessel for the aliens on the planet.'

'And they're not going to be amused when they find that they're away team has been killed by the enemy,' added Riker's voice. 'They might have ignored us otherwise. They're coming in with weapons ready.'

'Shields up. I'm on my way. If they open fire, take evasive manoeuvres. Do not return fire.'

'Aye, sir,' said Riker in the background.

A few minutes later, Picard emerged onto the bridge and gazed, horror-struck, at the screen. Before him loomed the shape of one of the hated city destroyers, protected by the invisible, infuriating screen of energy.

Picard turned to Data. 'Is the invasive program ready for use?'

'Yes, sir,' answered Data, sat in what had been Troi's seat. 'It is downloaded into our computer systems, but unfortunately, we have not had opportunity to test it.'

Picard smiled grimly. 'This seems like as good a time as any.' He signalled to Worf. 'Activate program, and transmit.'

Worf nodded, having taken over the tactical console from Hedly. 'Yes, sir,' he answered. 'Program transmitted.'

A moment passed, in which the city destroyer loomed ever closer. No attack planes launched; no energy fire erupted towards them. Picard could only suppose that the aliens were no so overconfident that they believed their mere presence could quell an enemy.

They weren't far wrong, he mused.

Worf said, hesitantly, 'Admiral, I think that their shields are lowering. It is difficult to be sure.'

Picard smiled. 'Lock a quantum torpedo and fire.'

The green bolt of fire shot towards the city destroyer. Quickly, the torpedo was lost against the solid black backdrop of the immense ship. Abruptly, there was a brief flash of light and the green shield flashed into view. Thames spoke, her voice disappointed and shocked.

'Impacted on shields!'

Riker stood, and his voice was filled with urgency. 'Take us out of here, Ensign Truper. Warp -'

'Belay that order!' Picard's voice was not raised, but it cut across Riker's order like a steel knife. 'Fire again, Mr. Worf. Full spread.'

Worf hesitated. 'Admiral, their -'

Picard looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, cutting him off. 'Fire again, Mr. Worf.' The Klingon looked embarrassed, and complied.

'Full spread, aye. Firing.'

This time, the torpedo launcher fired a series of torpedoes, all of which flashed towards the destroyer which was looming towards them with the grace of an immense whale. The torpedoes disappeared against the ship's surface again, but this time Data was monitoring them, counting off impact times.

'Impacting shields in four seconds, three, two, one.' He looked up. The torpedoes hadn't exploded.

A moment later, the huge flash that came lit up the entire side of the city destroyer like a Christmas tree. The explosions tore into the huge ship, blasting the armour apart, and gouging into the metal. A ball of flame miles long erupted from the hull of the immense ship.

The bridge crew cheered. Picard slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair. 'Yes! Fire at will, Mr. Worf.' The Klingon straightened.

'Aye, sir!' The _Enterprise_ manoeuvred closer to the huge ship and opened fire with phasers and quantum torpedoes. The blasts ripped into the side of the ship, blowing apart armour, damaging circuits, blasting apart conduits, wrecking the ship -

The alien's eyes snapped open. All around him, he could feel the presence of the humanoids that inhabited this galaxy. They were about to perform a surgical procedure on him. His mind stretched out, and detected the death screams of his comrades on the huge ship. He suddenly was ordered to stop the attack on the home ship. He searched, until he found a suitable mind....

Beverly Crusher said, 'All right, we're going to make the first incision along the torso, along this line.' She indicated a dark groove along the front of the alien's torso.

Nurse Alyssa Ogawa nodded and handed the doctor a scalpel.

Beverly leaned towards the alien body -

And stopped. 'Release me,' she whispered. Ogawa leaned closer.

'What did you say, Doctor?' Beverly straightened and gave Ogawa a homicidal glare.

'Die,' she hissed, and slashed Ogawa's face with the scalpel. The nurse stumbled backwards, and collapsed with a brief scream. The security guards whirled and drew their phasers.

'Doctor, put the knife down,' ordered one of them calmly. He suddenly found one of the scalpels in his chest. The other raised his phaser, and collapsed, another scalpel, this time from the creature, imbedded in his throat. Beverly quickly released the creature from the restraints and suddenly awoke as if from a trance.

'What -' She spotted the body of Alyssa, and the two guards, and then saw the alien rise from the bio-bed and grab her....

Return fire from the city destroyer had quickly dwindled down to an occasional spray of blue energy which the _Enterprise's_ shields absorbed easily. Picard managed to keep a smile from his face as the _Enterprise_ pounded the much larger ship.

Above them, the black hull exploded and blazed under the barrage. Occasionally, an errant attack plane would swoop in and open fire, but a swift blast from the phasers usually dealt with that problem.

'I think they must have been so surprised by our lowering of their defences,' said Riker quietly, 'that they were unable to adapt.'

Picard nodded in agreement. 'Lieutenant Thames, begin a structural analysis of the destroyer. Find their weak spots so that we can take them down quicker.'

'Aye, sir,' she replied.

Picard was able to spare a moment for a brief inspection, and then the intercom allowed the Chief Engineer's voice to filter through.

'Admiral, I think you'd better get down here fast. It's the alien.' Picard shot a look at Riker, the same thought in their minds. _Beverly_?

Picard only allowed the pause to last a brief moment. 'Keep firing, Mr. Worf. See how long their armour can keep them going.' He faced Riker. 'Captain Data, you have the bridge. Number One, come with me.'

The lift deposited them in Engineering. They hurried through the section, and found the Chief and two crewmen looking up towards the warp core. They followed his gaze.

The tall alien was stood on one of the upper walkways, gripping Beverly Crusher tightly in one of its tentacles. Another tentacle was busily dismantling the warp core, and extracting the dilithium crystals. Two crewmen lay, unmoving, at it's feet.

Beverly looked towards Picard with a tortured expression. 'Jean-Luc?'

Picard stepped forward, not answering, unless his answer was to draw the phaser that he had ordered to be standard issue to all personnel since the war began. He spoke directly to the creature before him. 'Let her go, and step away from the warp core.'

The alien looked at him, stopping its work. Beverly suddenly went limp, and she began to speak in an uninflected and monotonous tone.

'Your ship will not survive its foolish attack upon us.'

'Surrender your ship and we shall discuss peace terms,' said Picard. 'We will be –'

'We do not surrender to those who are inferior to us. You will fall before us.'

'There is no need to fight you.'

'You are incorrect. Only those strong enough to rule deserve to live. All others are weak and imperfect. You will be _purged_.'

Picard grimaced, recognising a big cultural impasse. 'Who are you?'

The alien straightened. 'We are the Aralla.'

'At least they've got a name,' said Riker behind him.

Picard tried again. 'Can we come to an agreement?'

'No agreement.' The Aralla turned and resumed work. When Picard levelled the phaser at it, it swung Beverly around to block his firing line. 

'What do you want from us?' called Riker. 'Is there something we can provide you with?'

The Aralla faced them again. Beverly seemed to smile. 'All you could give us is the satisfaction of your deaths. Your resources are useless to us. All we need is for you to die. This conversation is ended.' It turned away again, and Picard realised that it only needed to extract one more crystal to cause an uncontrolled matter/anti-matter reaction.

Picard raised the phaser, grim, cold determination sweeping across his face. Riker faced him, but Picard could only see Beverly's face, regaining its animation. She knew her duty, and Picard could read it in her eyes. She nodded, and Picard raised the phaser and pressed the –

Pressed the –

He couldn't do it. Ashamed at his weakness, he lowered the phaser slightly. Riker guessed his intention, while not seeing the inner conflict.

'You can't fire, Admiral. You'll hit Beverly.' Picard nodded slowly, understanding Riker's protest, but slowly, the phaser raised itself, as though it were of it's own volition.

He stared into Beverly's eyes one last time; saw the fear and the pain there.

The Aralla gazed at him again, unafraid of it's own death. Behind it, the last dilithium crystal began to come free from its housing.

Beverly shouted, 'Jean-Luc, shoot!' And Picard knew what he had to do. His arm shook, and his eyes blurred with unshed tears. Beverly shouted, her face pleading, 'Shoot! Now, before it's too late!'

Picard fired.

The Aralla stumbled as the beam of energy passed directly through Beverly's body, killing her, and was absorbed by its carapace. It twisted and fell from the walkway, releasing the crystal in its last convulsive death throes. The dilithium teetered on the brink of disaster for a brief second, and then fell back into place once again.

Picard lowered the phaser, and stared slowly at the body that crashed to the deck at his feet. Silently, he stared for a long moment, and then Riker stepped to his side and took his arm, intending to take the phaser from his hands, clenched tightly around the smooth material. Breaking free of his friend's grip, Picard leant tenderly over Beverly's body. She had been killed instantaneously by the phaser blast, and had felt nothing. Her eyes were open but unseeing, and Picard closed them gently.

Slowly, he turned from the table, silent and with eyes that spoke of horror and torment beyond that which anyone should have to undergo. He ignored the silent, shocked and concerned eyes of the crew, and said, in a voice drained of all emotion and containing nothing but bleak loss, 'Number One, I believe that you know what must be done. I shall be in my quarters.'

Without another word, he took the phaser from Riker's grasp, turned and strode quickly away, his shoulders tense.

A short moment passed during which no-one dared move. Eventually, Riker allowed the belated medical team to approach, stunned expressions on their faces. He turned to their leader and said quietly, 'Remove the bodies to the morgue and prepare them for a space burial.'

'Aye, sir.' Riker found that he could not speak further. He turned, and stalked from Engineering.

Riker stepped from the turbolift onto the bridge.

'What has happened, Captain?' asked Data, moving from the centre seat and facing Riker.

Riker did not answer him. Instead, he turned and faced the screen, looking with hatred and disgust at the battered city destroyer before them, now dead under the firepower of the _Enterprise_. 'Is the structural analysis complete?' he asked quietly, barely keeping the sorrow inside him from boiling up and over.

'Aye, sir,' answered Worf, pride still resonating in his deep bass voice, but now tinged with uncertainty. 'We only need a single shot in the right place to set off a total chain reaction.'

Riker found that he could not muster any satisfaction at the victory, and merely said, 'Do so at your discretion.' He turned to Ensign Truper. 'After that, Ensign, set course for _DS9_. Maximum warp.'

The _Enterprise _moved out of the orbit of the planet and, almost as an afterthought, fired a torpedo into the central circle of the ship. A moment passed, and then the detonation roared from the ship, a hundred times more powerful, breaking the ship up even further.

As it began to explode in an immense conflagration, the _Enterprise_ soared into warp.

Riker watched the stars change to lines streaking past the sleek hull of the _Enterprise_, and turned to Data and Worf. He spoke quietly. 'We've had a near accident in Engineering. The creature took Doctor Crusher hostage, and tried to dismantle the warp core.'

'That displays that they have a high technical knowledge,' remarked Data automatically.

'That's not the point,' said Riker. He started to speak, but then realised that he could not skirt around the issue any longer. 'Doctor Crusher has been killed.'

Data merely closed his eyes in a reflex action, but Riker had read the pain there. Worf gripped the tactical console harder and Riker knew that, despite his stoic warrior's resolve, Worf was deeply horrified, as they all were. Two of their old friends were now dead, and the end of the war was not yet in sight.

There was a horrified pause as the others began to take in the implications and then Worf asked, in a devastatingly raw voice, 'How?'

'If the creature had successfully removed the dilithium crystals, the reaction would have caused a warp core breach. It was using Beverly as a human shield. Admiral Picard was trying to negotiate but the creature had nearly completed the operation. A moment longer, and the ship would have been destroyed. He was forced to kill them both.'

Data bowed his head, and Worf somehow gripped the console harder. Riker tried to say something and found that words were insufficient. He looked away.

'Sickbay to bridge.'

Riker glanced up and surprised himself by being able to speak. 'Riker here.'

'Captain, you'd better get down here. Nurse Ogawa wishes to speak with you.'

'On my way.' Riker glanced at Data who was now staring steadfastly at the screen. 'You have the bridge, Captain Data.'

Riker did not hear the android's whispered reply, and he headed to the aft turbolift. As the doors hissed open before him, he paused and glanced back at Worf. The Klingon looked at him, and grief was etched onto his face. It was an expression that Riker had not expected to ever see on the Klingon's face. 'Worf, if it's any comfort....'

There was a short pause, and then Worf said, 'Sir?'

Riker looked straight at him. 'She died with honour.'

Will Riker entered sickbay reluctantly, and stopped short when he saw the blood covering the bulkheads and deck. Three shrouded bodies lay on the bio-beds and Alyssa Ogawa was sat on another bed, a bandage covering most of her face. She was shaking. Riker stood beside and embraced her as a gesture of friendship. She broke away first and looked at Riker anger and misery vying for attention on her face.

'Captain, it was terrible! She just attacked without warning. She was just about to make the first incision when she whispered something. I leaned closer to find out what she had said, and she just slashed my face. Then - then...' Ogawa's voice trailed off, her mind unwilling to cope with the pains of recollection. 'I fell unconscious at that point.' Riker nodded sympathetically, and took another look around the room.

All around sickbay, the doctors, nurses and interns were coming to term with the shock and grief of the death of Beverly, in much the same way as Picard and the senior staff was doing.

Riker turned to face Alyssa and explained exactly what had happened in the engine room. Occasionally, he glanced over at the shroud which covered the doctor's corpse. At the end, Alyssa's eyes were shining with tears afresh. Riker could only say, 'I'm sorry,' knowing how hopelessly inadequate these words were.

As she nodded her thanks and Riker turned away, the strain, despair and anger of the last few days finally got to him. He turned to the wall, and slammed his fist into it with all of his might. '_Damn!' _His hoarse and furious yell was one of lost love, and helpless fury.

The others remained silent around him, and after a moment, Captain Will Riker pulled himself together, turned and left sickbay – a different man to the end of his days.

Alyssa had seen it in his eyes. The pain and anger at Deanna's and Beverly's deaths had been swiftly and irrevocably covered with an impenetrable shield of self-imposed steel. It would never come down.

Picard sat in his quarters, fighting back the anger and the bitterness and despair that overwhelmed him. In his heart was the conviction that there had been another way to have solved the crisis – to have avoided killing Beverly, a woman he loved.

In his mind, however, he knew that the Aralla had not been afraid of its own death, and that it was not even capable of understanding such a thing as an agreement. It's own statements had told him this. His mind forced him to confront his guilt and shame – and to solve them.

Slowly, his mind won over the heart that struggled in vain, and Picard slowly picked up the phaser that rested on the table by the chair and pointed it at his own forehead.

The door bleeped. Picard remained silent. His finger moved to the trigger.

On the other side of the door, Lieutenant Thames, whose shift had ended just moments before, pressed the "doorknocker" again. Another moment of silence passed, before Thames called, softly, 'Admiral ?'

She waited for a response but there was none. She was about to call again when the door slid open before her. Thames hesitated for a moment, and then stepped slowly forward into the darkened room. 'Admiral?'

Her voice disappeared into the darkness, and she was tempted to call for lights. However, a shape stood slowly from one of the chairs at the far side of the room and faced her. Thames nearly gasped in outright shock at the worn and crushed expression that was on Picard's face. 'Sir, are you all right?'

He jerked his face up to look at her directly, and Thames could see the anger and pain glittering in his eyes for a brief moment. But only for a moment.

Almost as soon as she had registered the look, it vanished, and Picard –

Picard did not resume his old countenance of controlled power and strength. His new face was one of barely restrained anger mixed with darker emotions that Thames could barely recognise. 'What can I do for you, Lieutenant?' he said, his voice controlled.

Thames hesitated again, wondering how to explain the mysterious impulse that had prompted her to come to his quarters. She shook her head. 'I simply wanted to make sure –'

Picard did not smile, and nor did Thames expect one from someone she could hardly recognise as the man she had been attracted to since the Academy. 'I am fine, Lieutenant,' he said eventually. 'You have saved me from a very difficult decision.'

Thames put on her most solemn face. 'I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir,. With your permission?' So saying, she turned and left his quarters. Picard glanced down at the phaser in his hand that he had kept hidden behind his back, smiled sadly, and slid it into his holster. And, for the rest of the war, he did not use any other phaser.


	10. The Fall Of Deep Space Nine

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Chapter X

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Deep Space Nine was hidden from sight by a cloud of starships. The immense fleet that maintained its defence of the station was joined almost everyday by survivors of other defence fleets and those ships that had been too far away to assist in the main defence efforts. Picard had called in every starship in the quadrant in order to create a force that could defeat the Aralla menace.

The _Enterprise _joined this duranium conglomerate in a flash of light that heralded its arrival from subspace. As soon as it did so, it manoeuvred to docking distance with one of the upper pylons and finally settled into place.

Sisko stood at the airlock, watching as Picard and Riker stepped through. As soon as the cogwheel of the airlock slid aside, Sisko saluted formally. Picard nodded back. 'At ease.' To the captain of _DS9_, Picard's voice sounded strained. 'How is the fleet bearing up?'

'There's been an understandable lack of morale,' said Sisko, as the two of them headed down the corridor, trailed by Riker. 'We're continually getting reports of the enemy sweeping through the quadrant sector by sector. They'll hit any planet that shows the slightest sign of technological advancement. But they aren't setting up any occupation force that we can see. I sent the _Rotus_, the _Trident_ and the _Alaska_ to find the forward positions and report back. There's been no word from any of them yet.'

'Communications blackout?' asked Riker.

'Yes, Captain,' replied Sisko. 'Unless in an emergency.' He paused, and turned to look at Picard. 'Sir, we can't keep going on like this. Although you yourself are not unpopular yet, it is possible that the various factions in the fleet may decide to go their own different ways if something isn't done soon.'

Picard nodded and smiled faintly. 'It's just fortunate that I happen to have some good news.'

Picard strode into the main briefing room to face Tomalak, Gul Dukat and two Ferengi Daimons who replaced those from the Battle for Earth, who had died with their ships. Without wasting time on small talk, Picard said, 'We have destroyed a city destroyer.'

There was a moment of stunned silence before Tomalak asked, shakily, 'How?'

We used a Borg invasive program that had been stored in the derelict _Enterprise-D_ computer core to lower the shields.'

'Explain,' said Dukat, and his tone was not one of request.

'The program was first designed five years ago, to be used on a lone Borg drone returned to the Collective after he had been infected with the virus. It would have used an insoluble geometric design that would have forced the Collective to expend more and more resources and power into solving. Eventually, their structure would have broken down. On the Aralla – that's the name of the enemy – it forces the computers on their ships into diverting power from critical systems to solving the puzzle. Their shields drop quickly. As long as their shields come down, we have a chance of destroying them. All we need do is transmit the information to the mother ships, and hopefully they'll do the rest.'

'Excellent,' said Dukat, his voice satisfied. The others all nodded their agreement as well.

Picard stood slowly. 'Battle plans and attack formations have been transmitted to your command ships. I wish us all luck. Dismissed.'

Sisko stayed behind, after the others had left. 'Admiral, I want to know something. This invasion, and all of its consequences. Now that we have finally found a way to win this war, what are we going to do? The Romulans, the Klingons, the Cardassians, the Ferengi, and we have all lost our homes. We could be weak against a Dominion or Borg attack, especially as the Dominion know that we are vulnerable.' Picard nodded, acknowledging the good point, and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

'I don't know,' he admitted with disarming honesty. He then looked at Sisko, and the other man saw the deep anger and pain that burnt in Picard's eyes. 'For the moment, though, let us worry about the Aralla first. After that, worry about how to survive the peace.'

Sisko turned and left the room, barely repressing a shudder. And he too realised that Jean-Luc Picard was not the same man he had once been.

The Aralla moved through space like a virulent black infection. As they passed planets, either technologically advanced or simply inhabited, long dark tendrils, consisting of fighters and city destroyers would reach out and touch them almost gently.

And, following that dark touch, the planet would begin to sprout flowers.

Flowers of orange and red. Flowers of flame. Flowers of death.

And, before the Aralla, lay the tiny shape of _Deep Space Nine_, and its ragtag defenders.

The Aralla would bring their own form of botany to Bajor….

Garak was sat in his tailor's shop when he heard a soft footfall behind him. Without turning, he said, 'I'm closed. Come back tomorrow....'

His voice died away as he turned because there were five Cardassian Guls stood behind him. One of them was Gul Dukat. 'Garak.' he said quietly.

'What do you want, Dukat?' said Garak aggressively, remembering the last time these two had met. It was shortly before Cardassia had joined the Dominion. Dukat had threatened him to make sure Garak stayed away from Dukat's daughter, Tora Ziyal. Well, Ziyal was safe on Bajor now.

'I'm not here to threaten you, Garak,' said Dukat. 'These good men with me have –' Here he paused, choosing his next word with care - 'persuaded me that it would be in the best interests of the war effort if you were given a commission in the Cardassian section of the fleet.'

'Me?' Garak was shocked, but was too cagey to let on. 'How do I know -?'

'That we're not lying?' said one of the others, a man Garak recognised as being the famous Gul Lemec. 'You don't, but it is obvious that, despite any personal antipathies, we need all the best men commanding our ships that we have. You are one of them. Will you accept and join us in the coming battle?'

Garak smiled. Here was his chance to finally redeem himself in the eyes of his people. 'I am honoured to serve, as always.'

'Good. You are now Gul Garak, assigned to command the _Keldon_-class warship _Shellak, _effective immediately.' Gul Lemec left a padd on the nearest counter. 'We will send you a uniform directly. Grand Admiral Picard has already been notified. Both he and Captain Sisko agree wholeheartedly.'

The five turned and left, leaving Garak staring at the padd in dazed pleasure.

It was the_ Rotus_ that spotted them first. The massive mother ships dwarfed the Warbird, and it was quickly into a retreat as the attack planes roared from the docking bays. As blue energy surrounded the Warbird, it began transmitting a panicked distress signal.

Picard stood in Ops, listening for the transmission from the _Rotus_. 'Repeat your message, _Rotus_. We didn't get that.' The comm crackled with static, and a faint voice was heard. 'Mr. O'Brien, see if you can clear that up.'

'Yes, Admiral,' answered O'Brien. A moment passed as he brought his tremendous engineering skills to bear on the problem and then he said, 'Here we go.'

The Romulan commander's voice came from the speakers, loud and clear. In the background were large explosions. 'This is the _Rotus_! We have encountered the enemy, bearing 392 mark 641. They are heading at warp four towards _DS9_. We are currently under heavy attack. We're not sure -!' Then there was a massive crash, and then blank, unyielding static. Picard sighed and motioned to O'Brien to cut the link. Picard turned to Jadzia Dax as the static suddenly ended, leaving an unpleasant ringing in the ears of those present.

'ETA for the Aralla attack.' Dax waited for the computer to reveal the information asked for, and then she glanced at Picard.

'Twenty hours, Admiral.' Picard nodded, and turned to face the Ops crew.

'We have twenty hours. Prepare for battle.' Picard turned and walked out of the room, not looking back. Sisko looked around in slightly bemused surprise.

'You heard him. Get moving!' There was no immediate movement, but then Julian Bashir stood, his voice reluctant, but his face determined.

'Captain, do you really believe that Admiral Picard is fit to command the fleet?'

There was a pregnant pause, and then Sisko ground out, 'Explain yourself.'

Bashir swallowed, but continued. 'He has been under tremendous mental and physical pressure ever since the beginning of the invasion. First, he makes a disastrous first contact with the Aralla, and for a man of his pride, that must have been bad enough. When they destroyed Romulus and Qo'nos, he must have felt despair, at least. Next, his crew is split, and then he is saddled with total command of Starfleet. He is forced to watch Earth be destroyed and watch the war that he may feel he started spiral out of control. He is forced to kill a member of his crew who was very close to him.' Bashir turned to look at the others. 'Many of his own crew have stated that he doesn't appear to be the same man any longer.' H turned back to Sisko. 'That is quite a lot of pressure on one man. All I want to do is give him a psychological exam. That's all. I'll report to you with my findings.'

Sisko glanced around. 'Is that how you all feel?' The Ops crew looked uncertain, and then Worf spoke up.

'He does appear to have changed, Captain,' he agreed, his tone reluctant. O'Brien nodded in agreement. Sisko turned back to Bashir, anger on his face.

'I will allow the examination. If I see that is necessary from your results, I will relieve him of command myself. If that is all, we have a lot of work to do!' Ops cleared. Sisko was last to leave.

Ramel'Eglek had followed Omer'Igal's instructions to the letter. His fighter, limping along at warp three, had finally reached the co-ordinates the First had given him. Now, they waited patiently.

'First,' said the Second from his console behind Ramel'Eglek, 'I am picking up an unusual energy wave distortion that I have never seen before.'

Ramel'Eglek turned and made his way to the Second's position. He now walked with a severe limp due to his injuries, but he still kept going. 'Let me see.'

The Second called up the scanner records, which Ramel'Eglek immediately recognised. 'Excellent. Hold our position and transmit a carrier signal along this frequency.'

The Second took the proffered padd, but looked askance at Ramel'Eglek as the First turned away. 'First, why the secrecy?'

Ramel'Eglek paused for a moment, and then looked at the Second. 'Obedience is victory, Second,' he said.

The Second stiffened, almost involuntarily. 'And victory is life, First.' Immediately, he set to work. Ramel'Eglek turned away again, a faint smile on his face. 'We are receiving a signal, First,' reported the Second.

'My private comm,' said Ramel'Eglek, and put on the headpiece. Omer'Igal's face appeared in his vision.

'Ramel'Eglek, our fleet is approaching your position. I am seconding you and your troops to my command aboard the flagship.'

Ramel'Eglek nodded. 'What of the fleet massing at _Deep Space Nine_?'

'The changelings have accepted my idea to ally them with our fleet, but they have demanded that Bajor and _DS9_ become Dominion property.'

Ramel'Eglek frowned. 'They would not ever accede to those terms,' he said.

Omer'Igal smiled. 'I know. Their fleet, so reports tell me, is powerful enough to defeat us easily. The changelings are leading themselves to their defeat,' he added, with a trace of satisfaction in his tone.

'When will we rendezvous with the fleet?' asked Ramel'Eglek.

'In five minutes. I must go to the bridge now. We will speak again when you come aboard.' Omer'Igal vanished.

The First turned away from the small screen in his quarters. Things were being accelerated at a pace far quicker than he had wanted. The destruction of the Alpha Quadrant in such a short space of time had shifted the balance of power in the Gamma Quadrant. The changelings, urged on by the Vorta, wanted to take advantage of the situation by increasing Dominion power in the area near the wormhole. However, Omer'Igal knew that the invaders were far more powerful than the Dominion or any of it's forces. What they should be doing was falling back, observing the way in which the fleet around Deep Space Nine dealt with the attack, and then deciding what to do. But, the callous disregard the Founders had for life meant that thousands of Jem'Hadar would fall defending the Dominion to the last man, despite it's futility.

Omer'Igal clenched his fist with suppressed fury. He could not allow that to happen. He knew, almost as if it were him doing it, what would happen next.

The fleet commanders, either Picard or Sisko, would reject the Founder's proposals out of hand. The Founders would then watch the battle for DS9, and when the fleet fell back, through the wormhole, almost certainly to the planet of the Wadi, the Dominion would attack. If they won the battle, the Dominion would be alone against the invaders. If they lost, the Dominion would have lost a significant part of it's fighting capability just as the invaders came through the wormhole. Either way, the Jem'Hadar and the people of the Dominion would lose.

It was time, now, to stop that from happening.

The Aralla swept through the Alpha Quadrant, pushing all before them. They destroyed city after city, planet after planet and star system after star system methodically and efficiently. They did not stop, but simply headed slowly towards _Deep Space Nine_ and Bajor, determined to crush all resistance and to ensure their victory as fully as possible.

And on the mother ships and the city destroyers, the death of millions was recorded and filed away emotionlessly. As if the sentient species of the galaxy were just vermin.

To the Aralla, in the final analysis, that is all who stood before them were. Vermin to be exterminated. There was to be no mercy given. There was to be no pity felt for their deaths. There was and could only the final outcome of victory.

Picard strode into the infirmary, weariness etched onto his face. Bashir felt a pang of pity for him, but then steeled his resolve. 'Admiral,' he greeted him.

'Doctor, I hope you have a good reason for this, because we are about to enter a critical phase.' Bashir nodded, but his expression of determination did not waver. He decided to jump straight in.

'I'm sorry if this a personal question, but how close were you and the late Dr. Crusher?' Picard glared at him, anger and pain fighting for supremacy on his face. His mind had already been pushed to breaking point.

Picard advanced slowly on the younger man, who suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how close Picard was to breaking. 'What sort of question is that to ask me? _Me?_ The supreme commander of the fleet!The man who bears the responsibility for the deaths of _millions _of people! The man who has had to watch his friends and colleagues die because of a mistake I allowed to happen! The man who killed the woman he loved because she _got in the way_.' This last sentence was pronounced in a tone of bitter, mocking self-hatred. 'How _dare_ you!' He lashed out and caught Bashir unawares. He then screamed a howl of fury at Bashir, who was horrified to see the utter loss of the control which had so personified this man.

As the young doctor fell into a bio-bed and scrambled away from the fury of Picard's self-recrimination, Picard turned on him again. His voice was now low and hoarse, but a terrible, all-consuming, bitter, self-loathing anger was rising in the voice. 'Can you imagine what it's like every night? Listening to their screams? Knowing that if you'd acted differently in just one situation, then hundreds of millions of people would not have had to die! Would not have known the name Aralla! Would not have watched as their planets burned before them, because one man could not make the right decision at the right time! I have to live with that, Doctor! And no matter what you or _anyone_ else might think, anything I do is _right_ and _justified_! Because of the simple reason that so much has already gone wrong that it doesn't really matter what we do to survive! _As long as we do!_'

Bashir had lost the thread of the tirade long before. As Picard lunged for him again, fury and pain written across his face, Bashir brought up a hypospray loaded with a tranquilliser. As he dodged Picard's insane attack, he brought the hypospray down hard on the Admiral's arm.

Fast-acting, the drug went straight into Picard's bloodstream. He fell, his voice suddenly dwindling away into nothing. Bashir knelt shakily by his side, grabbing a tricorder from the desk by him. He quickly scanned the unconscious man, and ascertained that he was sleeping. Next he tapped his communicator. 'Bashir to Sisko. Captain, could you and Captain Riker please come down to the infirmary?'

Bashir glanced down at Picard's unmoving body, remembering the last word that he had uttered. _Beverly…._

A few minutes later, Sisko walked through the door from the Promenade, followed by Riker. 'What is the problem?' He suddenly saw Picard restrained, unconscious, on one of the bio-beds. Riker's face became a study in outrage.

Bashir stepped out from behind his desk and looked apologetic. 'Captains, I believe that the Admiral is physically and psychologically unfit to command the fleet. He attacked me, and I had to tranquillise him.' Sisko nodded, but his face was grim and angry. He faced Riker.

'Captain, I'm sorry that this has to happen, but I'm having to take command of the fleet.' Sisko was prepared to force the issue by seniority, but Riker, to his credit, merely nodded, his expression one of worry and concern as he looked at his friend and colleague lying on the bed.

'How long do you think it will be until Admiral Picard recovers?' Bashir shrugged.

'Physically, he'll be coming out from under the tranquilliser in a few hours. Mentally, he's exhausted and depressed and guilty. I believe it stems back to the death of Doctor Crusher.'

Riker nodded sadly in agreement. 'He was extremely bitter and angry after he was forced to kill her.' _As were we all_, he thought. 'I didn't realise that he was under this sort of pressure, though. If I had done, I would have spoken to him a lot sooner.'

Bashir nodded slowly. 'As soon as he comes out of it, we'll know. He's an exceptionally strong-willed character,' he said. 'That counts in his favour.'

'For what?' asked Riker, worried by the doctor's tone.

Bashir looked straight at him. 'We could be looking at a complete mental breakdown. If so, I doubt he would ever be fit to take command of the fleet again.'

As they left the infirmary together, Sisko turned to Riker. 'Will, we could be in serious trouble if Admiral Picard does not recover,' he said quietly.

'That's putting it mildly,' said Riker. 'The fleet could tear itself apart.'

Sisko nodded. 'If that does happen, we need to isolate those problem areas and neutralise them quickly.'

Riker frowned. 'I'm not sure I follow your drift.'

'Resistance will probably come from the Cardassian and Romulan sectors of the fleet first,' explained Sisko. 'We need to try and find those who are still willing to fight the battle with us and get rid of those who wish to go on alone. Let them take their chances.'

Riker stared at Sisko. 'Shouldn't we at least attempt to keep the fleet together?'

'The Romulans and the Cardassians were always edgy about joining this alliance,' said Sisko bluntly. 'The Ferengi joined out of fear of the Aralla. The Starfleet and Klingon contingents are the only sections of the fleet I believe we can count on. Picard was the only common factor between us. Now he's out of the equation, we might not be able to hold the fleet together even if we beat the Aralla here.'

'And if they win, it's even more likely that we'll fall apart again,' Riker muttered angrily. 'I agree with your reasoning. But not with your methods.'

Sisko smiled faintly. 'I'll take that under advisement.'

Lieutenant Thames walked along the corridors of the _Enterprise_, trying to ignore the vague sensation of emptiness that she was experiencing. About an hour before, she had been creased up on her bed with a paralysing headache which had lasted for nearly ten minutes. She had not been able to call sickbay or move at all because of the pain.

And, all of a sudden, it had intensified until she thought her head would explode, and then vanished. Since that time, she had been left with a vague sense of unease and a definite feeling of loss, as though part of her was missing.

She padded down the corridor, attempting to tire herself out, but it was not working. So, she decided that she would talk to the Admiral about it. His presence always eased her mind.

She left the turbolift at deck three, and headed straight for Picard's quarters. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She bleeped again, but once again, there was only silence in reply.

Thames touched the black panel on the bulkhead, and said, 'Computer, tell me the location of Grand Admiral Picard.'

'Grand Admiral Picard is currently in the infirmary on _Deep Space Nine_,' answered the soft tones of the computer.

Thames' unease suddenly blossomed into full-blown terror. 'Nature of his condition?'

****

'That information is restricted to authorisation level twelve,' replied the computer primly. 'Please enter your access code**.'**

Thames turned away in disgust. Her authorisation was only to level five. And, with such a high security clearance needed, she was not likely to be able to get aboard _DS9 _and see him. _Who am I trying to kid?_ she thought angrily. _What would a man like that see in you anyway?_

The fleet was assembling itself in a long line between _Deep Space Nine _and Bajor, as the rest of the ships from the quadrant reached the station. Two more Warbirds finally aligned themselves into position as Sisko finally got the allocation of front-line positions between the arguing Klingons and Romulans sorted out. True to Sisko's prediction, the fleet had begun bickering among itself ever since Picard had become unfit to command. Without the charisma and authority of his presence in the fleet, the various races had begun arguing amongst themselves.

The Klingons refused to fight side-by-side with the Romulans, something that Picard had foreseen. Thus, the Klingon heavy warships were flanking a Starfleet central position, rather than a Romulan/Starfleet combined formation similar to the one at Earth. The faster warships were now holding position near _DS9_, rather than a forward position. Picard had observed that they had been brushed aside with ease by the city destroyers at the Battle for Earth, and so he believed he needed a strong covering presence for them – _Deep Space Nine_.

The Cardassian and Ferengi ships were operating on the flanks, but the Ferengi were now covered by ten squadrons of Starfleet and Maquis fighters and another twelve _K't'inga_-class warships. This was because the _D'kora_-class Marauders had proven themselves to woefully inadequate at holding their position in the face of heavy enemy fire. Not due to Ferengi cowardice, however, as the Klingons and Romulans claimed (The only thing, in fact, that they did agree on), but due to the natural lack of a fighting tendency in Ferengi culture. The preferred way out of a dangerous situation was to negotiate.

Needless to say, that would be suicide against the Aralla.

The other ships were holding positions along the line, mainly as back-up ships. Two Tamarian ships, the only survivors of the insane destruction of their race by the Aralla, held a vital position in the centre of the line, however. Picard had managed to bring them into the battle by a brilliant act of negotiation.

'Yes! You and the _Devoras_ are flanking the _Enterprise_! Thank you!' Sisko switched the screen in his office off as he leaned back. There had been much confusion in communication, with messages being lost while they were relayed and other little mishaps.

'I might be able to get a short rest before the enemy arrive,' said Sisko. The comm bleeped. He nearly screamed. He hammered his fist down on the comm button and pointed a finger aggressively at the face which appeared before him. It was Kira Nerys. 'This had better be good, Major!'

'Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but the wormhole is giving out elevated neutrino levels. I thought you should know.'

Sisko frowned. 'There are no Alpha Quadrant ships in the Gamma Quadrant at the moment, are there?'

'No, sir.'

'It's the Dominion,' decided Sisko. 'Order the fleet to go to maximum alert and prepare for a rear attack.'

Kira nodded. 'Aye, sir.' As the screen blanked out, Sisko jumped from his seat and stepped from his office into Ops.

'On screen.' he ordered immediately. The viewer flashed, showing the wormhole opening in blossoming brilliance.

'A single Jem'Hadar warship, sir,' said Dax. 'They are running with weapons powered down.'

'Escort vessels to meet them,' ordered Sisko. 'Tell the fleet to stand down red alert, but keep weapons ready.'

In space, four Romulan Warbirds broke from formation to intercept the Jem'Hadar ship. The Dominion warriors did not offer any resistance. The Warbirds spread out, and escorted them to the station.

Sisko turned to Odo. 'Tell the Vorta commander I will speak with him in my office. They are to be searched for weapons, and if they don't like it, kick them back onto their ship.'

Odo nodded, a wry smile on his face. 'Understood.' He strode from Ops.

Odo stood at the airlock, flanked by three security guards waiting with rifles ready. The airlock slid aside, and two Jem'Hadar stepped out. They were followed by the Vorta that Odo took to be the commander of the ship. The obsequious man bowed to Odo. 'Founder, it is an honour.'

Odo snorted. 'If you will follow me, Captain Sisko would –'

'I am not the one Captain Sisko would speak with,' interrupted the Vorta. He turned and allowed a Founder to step past him, flanked by two more Jem'Hadar. Odo nodded to his countryman.

'If you would follow me,' he said. The Founder inclined his head silently and stepped from the airlock, followed by the Jem'Hadar and the Vorta. Odo stopped abruptly. 'If you wish your men to come with us, they will have to surrender their weapons.'

The Jem'Hadar did not do so. They raised their guns threateningly. The Starfleet security guards did likewise. For a moment, the two Changelings stared calmly at one another, and then the Founder turned to the Vorta. 'Take the Jem'Hadar back to the ship and await me there.' The voice, as with all Founders, was quiet, but filled with the authority of command.

'But Founder –' began the automatic protest.

'I shall be safe enough aboard a Federation station, shan't I, Odo?' said the Founder, looking back at the other Changeling. Odo nodded.

'I shall personally guarantee it.' The Founder nodded to the Vorta, and the other scuttled back to the airlock, trailed by the angry-looking Jem'Hadar.

'What is your purpose here?' asked Odo nonchalantly.

'A Founder? On a peace mission?' Dax shrugged in confusion. She, Kira and Odo were stood before Sisko.

'It's a bit of an inconsistency, I'll admit....' Sisko almost laughed at this understatement.

'Send him in.' Dax left the office for a moment, and then returned, escorting the Founder. Sisko eyed the changeling warily. Odo stood as far away from his countryman as possible.

The Founder began his speech without any preamble. 'We have come to lend you assistance against the invaders. A fleet of Jem'Hadar stands ready outside the wormhole; stands ready to assist you.'

Sisko nodded without hesitation. The Dominion's assistance would be invaluable in the battle. 'No problem. We will incorporate you into the fleet structure as best we can. People will have to get used to the idea of having Jem'Hadar in the fleet with them. Send your people through. Who shall I communicate with?' The Founder shook his head.

'The Jem'Hadar will be ordered to obey your every command.' The Founder paused. 'There is one condition, however; after the battle, in return for this assistance, we request that _Deep Space Nine_ and the wormhole be handed over to the Dominion.'

Sisko gazed at the Founder, and then, icily, smiled as he remembered that everything the Dominion offered had a price. The entire area would almost certainly become a satellite of the Dominion, allowing the Founders to expand their empire outside of the Gamma Quadrant, using _DS9_ as a military base for the Jem'Hadar, exploiting nearby Bajor, and using the wormhole as a tunnel for the Jem'Hadar military forces.

Sisko sat down again, and shook his head. 'You can go back to your people, and tell them that we will _never_ hand over _Deep Space Nine_ or the wormhole.' He turned, indicating that the Founder should leave. The changeling inclined his head, stepped back, and the Jem'Hadar transporter beam enveloped him, carrying him away.

Kira nodded. 'Well done, Captain.' Odo nodded his approval, Dax just breathed a sigh of relief and Worf -

'Captain, I request a temporary transfer to the _Enterprise_.' Sisko whirled.

'What?!' Worf gazed at him stonily.

'I have been on _DS9 _for a year or so now, and I feel that I am a part of the small community here, but I have never felt that I belonged, like I did on the _Enterprise._ In that case, if I am to die in the oncoming battle, I would rather die as a total, complete warrior on the _Enterprise_, than on _DS9._ For this reason, I wish to temporarily transfer to the _Enterprise_.' Sisko looked as though he were prepared to argue, and then nodded, understanding the request.

'A temporary transfer to the _Enterprise_. Only until this is over.' Worf nodded, satisfied.

The Jem'Hadar ship turned and left the huge group of starships. The Founder turned to Omer'Igal. 'I did not expect this many vessels to be here, First. We will have to change our plans slightly.'

'Yes, Founder,' replied Omer'Igal, but a strange look passed over his face as he surveyed the fleet. Even the Dominion would have great trouble triumphing over this large a number of ships.

Maybe, just maybe, said a little voice in the back of Omer'Igal's mind, the Founders were wrong this time. The fleet of invading vessels that had attacked the Jem'Hadar fleet stationed at Cardassia Prime had torn them apart easily. No damage had been inflicted on the huge vessels, Ramel'Eglek and his team reported, but their weapons had torn apart the Jem'Hadar fleet with casual ease.

And the belief in the Founders' wisdom that Omer'Igal had seen on the faces of the Jem'Hadar all of his life had not been present in these defeated warriors. The Founders had been wrong that the Alpha Quadrant would be easy to conquer. What else had they been wrong about?

These were wrong thoughts for a First, Omer'Igal knew. And yet, he had been troubled with doubts for a few months now – indeed, ever since the alliance with Cardassia. Since when did the Dominion need to ally itself with another power?

But now was not the time, thought the First. He had spoken with several other Firsts who had become disgruntled with both the Founders and the Vorta. Soon, they would be able to decide what to do.

Picard's eyes snapped open. He looked about the infirmary. He tried to rise, but found himself restrained. He lay back again. Bashir walked past the bed, on his way to perform another errand.

'Doctor.' Picard's voice was a croak. 'Dr. Bashir.' Bashir stopped and hurried back. He looked Picard over once, and then picked up a tricorder and scanned him quickly. Apparently satisfied with the results, Bashir helped Picard sit up as far as he could under the restraints.

'How are you feeling, Admiral?'

'Let me out of these things.' Picard's voice was getting stronger. Bashir considered it for a moment and then released the restraints. Sitting up, Picard glanced once at Bashir who was eyeing him warily.

Suddenly, it all came flooding back to him. He had the good grace to look embarrassed. 'I feel I must apologise for my earlier behaviour, Doctor,' said Picard slowly. 'It was… out of order.'

Bashir raised an eyebrow. 'You can say that again. I was forced to tranquillise you after you attacked me.' Picard stood carefully. 

'Don't worry about it; you were doing the right thing. Beverly Crusher and I were very close. When I was forced to kill her, it triggered off something.'

Bashir nodded and held up the tricorder. 'You had a complete nervous breakdown. You were simply exhausted and under amazing stress levels. It was a tribute to your character that you kept going that long. Doctor Crusher's death was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.'

Picard walked around the infirmary a few times, testing his legs. 'What has happened during my… incapacitation?' Bashir answered crisply and concisely, filling Picard in on all the events that had transpired. Picard stopped him on one point.

'The Dominion offered peace and assistance against the Aralla?' Bashir nodded.

'Yes.' Picard turned to him, raising a hand.

'What were the terms?' Bashir raised his eyebrows.

'How did you know there would be terms?' Picard smiled faintly.

'Because that is how the Dominion operate. They never give anybody anything for free. What were the terms?'

'We were to hand over _Deep Space Nine_ and the wormhole.' Picard looked at him knowingly.

'And, knowing Ben Sisko, he didn't agree, and threw the Founder out of his office?'

Bashir nodded. 'I believe that that's everything. The Aralla fleet will be here in two or three hours.'

'In your opinion, am I fit to resume command of the fleet?'

'I believe so, Admiral. I need you to promise me that you will report to me immediately you start to experience stress like that again.'

'Understood,' said Picard. 'May I go?'

Bashir sighed at the persistence of his patient. 'Yes.'

Picard strode from the infirmary, ignoring the glances and wondering looks from other fleet officers on the Promenade. Those who had heard of his breakdown were few and far between in the fleet, but he knew that his disappearance, even for a few short hours, at such a critical time would have caused some comment.

His memory had recorded all that had been said during his final collapse. He had relegated that to the back of his mind. He had tried to ignore the stress and strain of keeping such a fragile alliance going. Now, he knew that he would be able to do so with ease. But there was only one way of doing so.

To become a ruthless war leader. Forget his principles and morals, and concentrate on forging this fleet into sword strong enough to destroy the Aralla. He needed to stop being Jean-Luc Picard the starship captain, and become the Grand Admiral in charge of a war.

Something had been born anew from the ashes of Jean-Luc Picard's breakdown. To the old Picard, it would have been abhorrent. But, in reality, it had always been there. The renaissance was complete. The Jean-Luc Picard that had died at Earth had been reforged in the fire of Doctor Crusher's death.

Slowly, over Picard's face, as he realised what he had become, a small smile crept. He was now ready to destroy the Aralla.

Sisko stood on the bridge of the _Defian_t, watching the fleet complete their final manoeuvres into position. Suddenly Nog, at the helm, looked up.

'Captain, I'm getting a signal from the _Enterprise_.' Sisko frowned, and nodded.

'On visual.' The screen flashed. Picard's face appeared on screen. Sisko blinked in amazement.

'This is Grand Admiral Picard to Captain Sisko. Ben, I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but we have received confirmation that the invaders are one hour from our position. All ships are to acknowledge ready. And go to battle stations.' Bashir came through the door in time to see this.

Sisko nodded. 'Understood, Admiral. The _Defiant_ stands ready.' Picard smiled, and the screen returned to its view of the fleet. Sisko turned and looked at Bashir, eyebrow raised.

'What is this about, Doctor?' Bashir smiled sheepishly.

'I decided that he was fit to command again, after a second series of tests. I was just on my way up to inform you.' Sisko sighed in exasperation.

'All right; it's too late to say anything now. But next time, warn me.'

'Aye, sir,' said Bashir with a slight smile.

Worf glanced around his quarters one last time, turned, and walked straight into Dax. She staggered back mock-seriously. 'I wondered when you'd notice me.'

'I am sorry, Jadzia,' said Worf, flustered. 'I was taking a last look.'

'A last look?' said Dax. 'Aren't you coming back?'

'You know what I mean,' growled Worf. 'We may not survive the coming battles. Jadzia, please, try to be serious. This may be our last time together.'

'You're right,' she replied. 'It might. But after all this is over and the Aralla have been kicked back through their dimensional rift, you will be coming back here. As my mate.'

Worf smiled. 'Is that a date?'

'Be serious,' Jadzia whispered. They kissed.

Eventually, Worf broke it. 'I have to get to the _Enterprise_,' he said quietly.

'Be careful, _par'machai_,' said Dax, equally quietly.

Worf stepped onto the bridge of the _Enterprise _to be greeted by the smiling faces of Picard and Riker. 'It's good to have you back, Mr. Worf,' said Picard.

'It is good to be back, sir.'

'Take your post at tactical,' said Picard, and he turned and sat.

Worf nodded to his back and moved across. _Picard must have been taking lessons from Klingon commanders_, he thought.

'Time to intercept, Commander?' asked Picard.

Worf, keeping his eye on the screen, replied, 'Eight minutes, Admiral.' Picard nodded. 

'Is the invasive program ready, Mr. Worf?'

'Aye, sir. Ready to transmit on your order.'

Picard took the time to quickly go over the formations and attack plan. This battle plan, rather than trying to hold them at several different locations at once, relied more upon the amount of fire that each ship could take. The line had to be held until the invasive program could work.

'Two minutes to intercept, Admiral,' came Hedly's nervous voice. Picard nodded to himself.

'Advise all squadron leaders that they have their discretion to engage the attack planes. Order them to ignore the city destroyers totally.'

'All squadrons acknowledge,' replied Worf.

Then, it began. 'Admiral, the Aralla ships have dropped out of warp behind Jeraddo. They are launching fighters. Our fighters are moving to intercept.' Jeraddo was the fourth moon of Bajor. Picard had expected the Aralla to come out of warp behind one of the moons, like they had done at Mars.

'Order the fleet to bring the Aralla directly under our guns and to stand ready.'

The tiny Aralla attackers zipped towards the larger Starfleet vessels. Phaser beams and photon torpedoes mixed with blue and green energy pulses.

'It appears that the Aralla have modified the weapons on their attack fighters,' commented Worf. Then the dreaded warning caught his eye. 'The city destroyers are launching.'

The pronouncement of those words caused a chill to pass through all those assembled. Across the fleet, scanners noted the emergence of the ships of death and relayed that information to their humanoid masters, unaware of the effect that information was having.

Hedly looked at Picard. 'Admiral, the city destroyers will round Jeraddo in twelve seconds.' Picard nodded, and swallowed.

'Order the fleet to fire on my mark. Mr. Worf, transmit the invasive program.'

'Transmitting program now. According to Captain Data's records, the shields will fall within two minutes of transmission.' Picard nodded. Worf, anticipating Picard's order, pressed a button.

'Quantum torpedo locked on lead ship.' Riker leaned over and spoke to Picard quietly.

'Admiral, there aren't enough mother ships to equal the number of mother ships at Earth.' Picard nodded.

'I know, Will. It can't be worried about at the moment. Four mother ships are enough keep me occupied.' Riker nodded and turned to the screen, tension in his body.

The destroyers rounded the moon. Hedly, watching them on the screen, said, 'Shields should be down now, Admiral!'

'Fire!' The green torpedo blasted out of the torpedo launcher and sped towards the lead destroyer. Hedly counted off the times.

'Impact in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one -' A small explosion impacted the shield of the destroyer. Picard stood, staring at the screen in utter horror and disbelief.

'Tell me that didn't just happen, Commander,' said Picard, his voice bewildered. Hedly's hands flew across her console, trying to find the problem.

'The torpedo hit the shields; confirmed. No damage.' Her voice cracked in terror. She looked at Picard for reassurance. She didn't get it.

'All ships open fire!' shouted Picard.

In a long line of energy beams and projectile launches, the fleet opened fire simultaneously. Keyed-up weapons officers through the fleet pressed the button almost as soon as the sensors confirmed the program's failure. Lances of disruptor and phaser energy struck the Aralla shields, followed by the slightly slower torpedoes. Bright eruptions were reflected back by the impenetrable green walls and the city destroyers came on. They opened fire.

Several ships sustained heavy bombardments in the first few moments. The energy seemed to be directed mainly at the portion of the fleet closer to _Deep Space Nine_, revealing the true objective of the attack. Not Bajor, but the station itself.

The _Enterprise _shuddered, whilst, beside it, the _Sutherland _blew itself into tiny pieces.

'Shields at sixty percent! Diverting emergency power!' shouted Worf. Picard grimaced.

'All ships, hold position! We can't let them break through!'

'The _Defiant _wasn't built to fight this sort of battle, sir!' shouted Dax over the hammerblows of Aralla fire. 'We're not a mobile gun platform like the _Enterprise_!'

Sisko clung grimly onto his seat. 'I know that, Old Man, but we can't –'

'Picard to _Defiant_. Captain Sisko, take command of the _Defiant_-class vessels and Birds of Prey. Begin strafing runs.'

'Understood, _Enterprise_! _Defiant_ out!' Sisko smiled at Dax who turned her attention back to the screen. 'Sisko to _Defiant _squadrons two and three. Attack pattern beta! All others, follow me!' Sisko turned to Kira. 'Get me General Martok.'

The _Defiant_-class vessels all swooped for the city destroyers, followed a moment later by the Klingon Birds of Prey. Running along the immense black hulls, they unleashed destructive energy of a power that belied their size. However, the shields of the Aralla vessels were more than equal to the task.

As the starships shot past towards the giant mother ships, preparing for another pass, they realised that the behemoths were much closer than originally expected to be. Unleashing phaser and disruptor blasts at the cliffs of darkness, they strayed too close.

Sisko turned to Dax. 'Order all ships to come about and form attack pattern alpha-two.'

A Klingon squadron turned and headed away from the quiet mother ships. From behind them, a series of portals began to open along the hull of the huge vessels. Suddenly, a purple lance of coruscating energy was emitted, and one of the Birds of Prey was sliced cleanly apart. The beams were emitted scarce moments later again, destroying the rest of the squadron with equal deadly efficiency.

Picard watched the newest development with mounting horror. He turned to Worf, savage anger in his snapping tone. '_Get those ships clear!_'

'Aye, sir,' said Worf, his tone betraying his shock. Then, his eye saw something else on the panel. 'Sir, there's something happening near Bajor –'

Sisko had watched the destruction of the Klingon squadron in total dread of what else was to come. However, he was loath to give the retreat order. Again, the _Defiant's_ phasers lashed out against the shields of a city destroyer, which absorbed their energies easily. Kira turned to him. 'Captain, we're receiving a transmission from the _Enterprise_. We're to fall back.'

Sisko hid a sigh of relief. Instead, he feigned reluctance. 'Acknowledge the command. All ships, fall back.'

Odo turned to face him, consternation written on his face. 'Captain, we're receiving word that Bajor is under direct attack!'

Sisko stared at the changeling. 'None of those ships have broken through our lines,' he said, almost to himself. 'But if they....' He whirled to face Dax. 'Reverse view on screen!'

The screen flashed, and displayed Sisko's worst fear. Behind them was the curve of Bajor, _Deep Space Nine_, the long line of ships –

And the fifth giant black mother ship, launching its city destroyers.

Sisko closed his eyes and bowed his head, realising the hopelessness of their situation.

The Aralla plan had at last become clear to Picard, who cursed himself at failing to see it coming. Attacking with four mother ships directly before the defenders, they had successfully distracted the fleet from the real attack.

Coming out of warp in an uncharacteristic display of tactics from the Aralla, the fifth mother ship had made a direct run at Bajor and _DS9_, both of which were now lying exposed beneath the city destroyer attack. With the terrific pounding the decoys were giving the fleet, Picard could not turn ships back to help the hard-pressed defenders nearer the station.

Once again, the Aralla had delivered the telling blow. Picard could help but fear that they had just condemned the Alpha Quadrant to death.

A huge explosion tore a Warbird apart at point-blank range, damaging the _Hood_ in its dying shockwaves. Data held on tightly to the arms of his command chair as the ship pitched wildly.

'Phasers! Full spread!' ordered Data. The tactical officer struggled to comply, but a large explosion suddenly tore apart his console, and he was flung into one of the aft science consoles, which exploded. Data was thrown from his chair, and the helm officer screamed as another large explosion blew apart the viewscreen and the flying shrapnel killed her. Data scrambled to the helm, but La Forge's voice came over the comm, sounding tired and defeated.

'Captain! We have thirty seconds until a warp core breach. There's nothing I can do.' He paused, realising that this was the end for all of them. 'I'm sorry it has to end this way, Data.'

'So am I, Geordi,' replied Data, realising that for the first time in his existence, he was facing imminent death. Before them lay the vast expanse of a city destroyer's hull. Data decided that there was one last act of vengeance that might provide a way through the Aralla defences.

He laid in a ramming course and activated the impulse engines. For a brief moment, he had debated informing Geordi and the crew, and then decided against it.

It all proved academic a moment later when a beam of glittering energy encased him and removed him from the doomed ship. He found himself staring into the grinning face of Reg Barclay. 'Welcome aboard, Captain,' said the transporter chief.

The _Enterprise _dwarfed the _Hood _as she swept by, retrieving the survivors from the doomed _Excelsior_-class starship. As the _Enterprise _raised her shields again and completed her run with a last phaser strike on the city destroyer, the _Hood _slammed into the shields of the destroyer, forming a ball of fire which threw the hull of the destroyer into stark relief. However, it did not bring the shields down. Indeed, they were not even stretched in handling the immense explosion's destructive capability.

The destroyers advanced calmly, occasionally lashing out with a ferocious display of casual firepower that never failed to rip one or two ships apart, but more often than not, simply ignoring the increasingly desperate attempts of the defenders to hold them back.

Picard was sat on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, watching each new disaster with resigned anger and frustration. Intending to place the most powerful ships in what he had thought would be the most critical areas of the line, he had realised early on that the Aralla had second-guessed him, and that those ships he had hoped would stem the attack were now in the most ineffectual areas. The Romulan Warbirds he had hoped to keep close to _DS9_ had been lured out by the Aralla decoy attack, and thus the station had become isolated, leaving it open to the attack it was facing now.

__

DS9 was in deep trouble. It's weapons were now firing at full capacity, creating a storm of fire on the underside of the city destroyer that now covered the station like a protective cloud of darkness. Phaser beams and photon torpedoes raked the shield, creating a bright but ineffectual colour show.

Above it, a far more deadly light show began to emerge. From deep within the city destroyer's hull, a green glow emerged as the city destroyer's hull began to open up and reveal the deadly flower within. From that green glow, as the black hull sections moved apart and allowed the firing point to descend into the space above _DS9_, a white build-up of energy appeared.

The _Defiant_, accompanied by its retinue of fast attack vessels, screamed back towards the fleet now engaged against the mother ship and city destroyers near Bajor. Sisko clung grimly to his command chair, anger written across his face. Before them, the Aralla strategy was clear. Drawing the fleet out to engage them near Jeraddo, they had opened the way through for the mother ship to attack both _DS9_ and Bajor simultaneously. The mother ship rested squarely in the centre of that twin-pronged attack, keeping the large vessels away with sweeping energy blasts, or, more rarely, the refined edge of the cutting weapon that had decimated the ships under Sisko's direct command.

In one corner of the screen, Bajor was surrounded by the fleet – mainly by the ships that had been assigned to rearguard positions. The heavy starships were having to make their roundabout way to help both the planet and the station, avoiding the destructive power of the mother ship. Sisko knew that he could not get back in time to help them, but he tried anyway. He glanced at the bridge crew. O'Brien was pale, fearing for his wife and children's safety. Sisko understood his concern. Jake had refused to leave the station, and had decided to stay with Kasidy Yates. Although the _Xhosa _was in the Gamma Quadrant now, Kasidy had wanted to stay with the child of the man she loved.

Kira was watching Bajor, anger and distress in her face. Odo was watching _DS9_ with a similar expression. Bashir was clutching the medikit he carried feverishly. Dax was concentrating heavily on the piloting through the debris around which the _Defiant_ had to manoeuvre at top speed, but even she spared an occasional worried glance at the screen.

And, last of all, Sisko glanced back at the remains of Ensign Nog, who had been unluckily caught in the explosion when a plasma conduit had breached after the shields had failed momentarily during the retreat. He would not be concerned for his father or his uncle's fate any longer.

Keiko O'Brien ran through the panicked crowd of people, carrying her daughter, searching for a way to escape. Having had to leave her dead son in her quarters, she was weeping with horror. Abruptly, she found herself near one of the abandoned docking pylons at the highest point of the station, close to the superweapon's green glow. She could look out at the expanse of _Deep Space Nine's_ once pristine structure. Now, it was damaged and burning in places. Above them was darkness, but not the darkness of space. This was the darkness of the hull of the city destroyer. Slowly, as the hull began to separate above her, she was transfixed by the soft green light of the superweapon. She realised that there was no escape for her now.

She clutched Molly closer to her and waited calmly for the end.

Jake Sisko watched calmly from the window of his quarters as the green glow filled the space before him. Behind him, Kasidy Yates lay dead on the floor, killed by an explosion which had ripped through the quarters minutes before, which had also injured Jake. However, he had been chosen to survive to watch the destruction of the station upon which he had spent a goodly proportion of his life.

With a detachment that had begun to become one of his characteristics, he watched as the world he knew ended.

Quark pushed his way forward to the docking hatch, leaving Rom and Leeta behind. 'Let me through!' he shouted. As he forced his way through the crowd, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the battle from a porthole. Drawn to it by a morbid fascination, he saw the green light reach out for him.

He smiled as the beautiful light encapsulated the station. Then he screamed as everything went white -

The glow intensified for a brief moment, and _Deep Space Nine_ vanished behind it. Abruptly, spiralling hull plates and spinning debris came flying from the white luminescence, signalling the worst. The effulgence faded, and revealed nothing but a dying ball of fire that marked the detonation of an immense fusion reactor.

Sisko stared at the main screen, his mind numbed by the loss of the battle, destruction of his command, and the probable deaths of his son and lover. O'Brien had a similar stunned, overwhelmed expression, as he was forced to contemplate the rest of his life without his son, daughter and wife. Kira and Odo both had expressions of barely controlled fury, whilst Bashir and Dax merely gazed dispiritedly at the screen.

Before them, the Aralla began their final attack on Bajor.

The _Enterprise_ crew looked at the victorious Aralla forces converging on the battered fleet around Bajor with the same expressions of bewilderment, loss and anger. Picard knew that the loss of both _DS9_ and Bajor meant that the fleet had to accept that the entire Alpha Quadrant was now conquered enemy territory.

He needed to stop the defeat before it became a disaster.

As the crew began to recover from their dismay, and realised that the _Enterprise_ was still under attack, Picard snapped an order out. 'Status of the fleet?' Hedly forced her attention to her console, and shook her head.

'We've lost forty ships, and suffered more than two hundred seriously damaged. It appears that they've managed to break through our lines in four or five places.'

Picard stared at the screen,. And made his decision. 'This battle is over. Send a signal to the fleet; retreat to the wormhole.' He turned to find Worf staring at him, outrage written across his dark face.

'Admiral, we cannot abandon Bajor!'

'I do not intend to lose any more ships fighting a lost cause, Mr. Worf!' said Picard, stung by his friend's reaction, mainly because it was similar to what his own would have been had he still been a starship captain. 'However, if it makes you feel any better, the _Enterprise_ will cover the retreat and be the final ship to flee.'

Worf nodded, but his face was still troubled.

As the city destroyers began to descend into Bajor's atmosphere, the fleet pulled back out of their way. It seemed as though the Aralla were happy to allow the defenders to survive as long as they did not interfere in the destruction of the planet. No fire was directed at them by the city destroyers and there was only the occasional sporadic burst of fire from the mother ships. The attack planes continued to harass the fleet, but the fighter squadrons kept them at bay.

Picard watched the orderly retreat with a kind of disappointed satisfaction. The smaller ships fled first, followed by the larger vessels. 'Recall all fighter squadrons. Tell them to head through the wormhole.'

As the swirling glory of the Celestial Temple opened to admit the retreating fleet through its gates, the Aralla began destroying the cities of Bajor. They were burnt out in brief moments as their defeated defenders fled the Alpha Quadrant. The dark, dead ships that littered the area stood out starkly against the wormhole's pristine beauty.

As the _Enterprise_ oversaw the retreat, Picard noticed two ships heading towards the Aralla vessels. 'Get me an ID on those ships.'

Worf's brow furrowed in a confused frown. 'Sir, they are the _Devoras _and the _Pagh._'

Picard stared at Riker for a moment. 'What the hell is Tomalak doing? Mr. Worf, get me the _Devoras_.' Tomalak's face appeared on the screen. He was badly injured.

'Admiral, we are going to give you the time you need to get away. We are going to try and cripple the mother ship.' As Picard opened his mouth to reply, Tomalak cut the communication himself, a relaxed expression entering his face for the last time that Picard saw him. A relaxation that he had not seen in the Romulan since the destruction of Romulus.

Picard watched as the Romulan Warbird and Klingon Bird of Prey, both former enemies, now united in death, picked up speed and attacked the mother ship.

The _Enterprise _turned away as the _Devoras _and _Pagh _were intercepted by the attack planes. Behind them, Bajor threw smoke and fire into her atmosphere from the burning cities. The Celestial Temple spiralled open to admit the starship into its radiant beauty, closing behind it and vanishing into dark space once again.

But the Aralla did not follow. Instead, they waited, poised to spring in either direction.

Aboard the Aralla mother ship, a furious argument had begun between the two most senior commanders of the invasion force. They could not agree whether or not it was better to advance and destroy the fleeing fleet of defenders, or remain where they were and consolidate their gains against an attacking force.

To the commander of the fleet, it was a crucial argument because the two debaters represented the two main factions within the military forces. He had not decided which would be the better option, and had decided to let these two have it out so that he could make an informed decision.

Of course, it would be equally easy to do either. If they decided to attack those ships that had fled the battlefield moments before, they would easily be hunted down and exterminated. It had been proved in battle that their plan to disable the Aralla ships was useless, and so, being vermin, they would not be able to defeat the Aralla in battle. The superior protection that was afforded the massive ships more than made up for their deficiencies in hull capability.

However, it would also be simple to head back to those planets they had already attacked and eradicate the vermin there, and make them suitable for colonisation.

For now, however, the leader of the force sat back and watched the argument play out before him. They had time enough to decide. After all, the defenders of the Alpha Quadrant had nowhere to go.


	11. How Anger Can Release Itself

__

Chapter XI

The single planet system of the Wadi had been arranged earlier by Sisko as the rendezvous point for the fleet in the event of the fleet's defeat. The leaders of the small planet were cautiously welcoming, glad to help, but ever cautious of the Jem'Hadar and the wrath of the Dominion.

Resources and parts now became major issues for the fleet commanders. Many of the ships damaged at the battle for Earth had been patched up hastily by the repair crews of _DS9_. Now that they had seen action once again, it became clear that many of the worst damaged ships were either going to be hard to repair, or only worth cannibalising for parts.

What was worst was the demoralising effect that the defeat at _DS9_ had had on the fleet. Talk abounded of the invulnerability of the Aralla war machine. The only man in the fleet who seemed to have avoided the depression and anxiety that had gripped the fleet was Picard.

Sisko sat in his quarters aboard the _Defiant_, staring at the wall, when the doorknocker bleeped. 'Come in,' he said, his voice listless.

Picard stepped through the door. 'At ease,' he said, when Sisko began to stand. Sisko settled gratefully onto the chair again. Picard regarded the younger man for a moment. 'We need to decide what we're going to do, Ben,' he said eventually.

'Do?' asked Sisko, not looking up. He gave a snort of derision. 'Die pointlessly, it appears.'

'I need your co-operation on this, Captain,' said Picard quietly. 'I'm sorry about your son, and _DS9_, but we need to –'

'It seems, Admiral,' said Sisko, 'that every time I get involved with you I lose something dear to me.'

Picard ignored the insult. 'Captain Sisko, I appreciate your loss, but I –'

'Do you?'

'_Yes, damn it!' _shouted Picard, his temper getting the better of him for a moment. 'We've all lost something, Sisko! Many more people in this fleet have lost their families! Look at your own crew; at Miles O'Brien! He's lost his family in a single moment! Now I don't know what it's like to lose a son, or a wife, but I do know that, at this moment, we are in severe danger. I need someone with me who is going to be able to take the pressure and help me save the Alpha Quadrant.'

Sisko recoiled from the force of Picard's anger. Picard did not – quite – mellow, but he did relax slightly from his angry posture. 'Are you able to get yourself through this now?' he asked. 'If you're not, I'll have to find someone else to become my second in command.'

Sisko looked straight at Picard for the first time. 'I apologise for my conduct, Admiral. It won't happen again.'

Picard studied him for a moment, and then nodded, mollified. 'Good. I wish to appoint you as my immediate deputy. You are to take command of the fleet in my absence.'

Sisko nodded. 'Understood.'

'Excellent,' replied Picard. 'All fleet commanders have been informed. You have complete discretion to choose whomever you want to positions below you. We need to re-establish the command structure.'

'Very well,' said Sisko. 'Are we keeping to strict racial lines?'

'With regard to putting Klingons in charge of Romulans and so forth?' asked Picard. When Sisko nodded an affirmative, a strange gleam entered Picard's eye. 'For the moment, yes.'

'For the moment?' Picard smiled.

'Nothing you need to worry about.'

Sisko gave Picard a sceptical look, but said nothing further. Picard sat down, rubbing his forehead in a gesture of contemplation. 'We've lost a lot of valuable and experienced personnel in this war. I need to start replacing them. I've already begun on the _Enterprise_ herself, but this needs to go fleet-wide.'

'Agreed,' said Sisko, sitting down opposite Picard. 'I'll have to liase with the other fleet commanders regarding any officers due for promotion.'

Picard nodded. 'Right. However, I want you to concentrate exclusively on the non-Starfleet sections of the fleet. I'll handle those promotions within the Starfleet structure.'

Sisko did not quite understand the order, but said nothing again. Picard stood, his expression changing back to that he had worn since his nervous breakdown. 'I have to get back to the _Enterprise_.' He turned, and then glanced back. 'The question of resources needs resolving first, Ben,' he said.

Sisko nodded. 'That's my first priority. I've already –'

'_Red alert!_ _Red alert! This is not a drill!' _Dax's voice blared from the intercom. Picard hit his commbadge.

'This is Admiral Picard! Report!'

'Sir, we've got trouble!'

A few minutes earlier, a Romulan Warbird and a Cardassian _Galor_-class warship patrolled the area around the fleet. A light began to flash in the tactical section of the Warbird's bridge. Subcommander Levok turned to his first officer and said, 'What's the problem?'

'We have a static jamming beam affecting our communications, Subcommander.'

'Can you clear it?'

'It appears to be directed from a point two hundred thousand kilometres off our port stern.'

Levok turned and faced the helmswoman and said, 'Delar, signal the _Geral_. Ask them to-'

'Subcommander,' called Levok. 'We have thirty ships decloaking off the port stern and another eighty on our starboard flank!' He gasped. 'They're Jem'Hadar warships!'

The screen displayed the Jem'Hadar fleet decloaking and turning to face the two starships. Levok turned to Delar quickly and said, 'Battle stations! Raise shields! Signal Gul Reyal and tell him to get back to the Wadi planet and warn the fleet! We'll hold them here.'

The Warbird powered up its weapons and opened fire on the Jem'Hadar as the _Geral_ headed towards the planet, broadcasting a desperate distress signal. The Founder watched dispassionately as the Jem'Hadar fleet returned fire on the Alliance ships. Omer'Igal rushed to him. 'Founder, we are picking up a signal from the planet. The fleet is responding as best it can, but many of the ships are stationed around the planet. We are reading more than a thousand ships of different designs. Most are powered down or unmanned, but they still have a sizeable force to fight.'

'We will attack now, and eliminate this presence quickly. Disable this ship before us.'

The bright blue blasts of energy from the Jem'Hadar warships crashed into the Warbird, knocking out its engines and weapons, leaving it helpless. The Jem'Hadar fleet sped past it and advanced on the Wadi planet.

'The _G'gerithau _has been crippled, sir,' reported Dax hurriedly over the intercom. 'The _Geral_ is retreating at maximum impulse, but the Jem'Hadar are closing fast.'

Picard nodded and turned to Sisko. 'I'm going to take command of the fleet from here,' he said. 'There's no time to get to the _Enterprise_.' Sisko nodded in agreement, and the two men left the room.

The _Enterprise_ was at the forefront of the rising wave of defenders, scrambling to intercept the comparatively tiny Jem'Hadar fleet that had attacked the Wadi planet.

Riker glanced up as Worf announced, 'Admiral Picard is directing the battle from the USS _Defiant_.'

Riker looked at the screen to see the _Defiant _charge madly forward, firing viciously at the Jem'Hadar formations. 'Yeah, looks like it,' he quipped.

Thames stood up from Ops when Data emerged onto the bridge, but the android waved her down and took the first officer's position beside Riker. A Jem'Hadar energy beam struck the shields as the android sat down. 'Mr. Worf, I know you want to,' said Riker. 'Fire at will.'

'Aye, sir,' said Worf with a vicious grin.

The _Enterprise_ hit the forward lines of the Jem'Hadar fleet firing madly. Not far behind it, the rest of the fleet crashed into the Jem'Hadar with all the ferocity of defeated warriors that were out for blood. For once, the Jem'Hadar were suddenly hard-pressed to keep them back.

The _Defiant_ tore through the lines, phasers and quantum torpedoes exacting fiery revenge for the Aralla victory on the Jem'Hadar who had chosen the wrong moment to attack. A full fighter squadron exploded into flaming radiance under the attack, and the _Defiant _turned and burned, pursued by enemy fighters.

'Evasive pattern theta twelve and fire full phasers!' shouted Picard. Dax carried out the complex manoeuvre, throwing the _Defiant _into a complex roll that the Jem'Hadar were not quite able to follow, bringing her around, and unleashing a phaser barrage on the erstwhile hunters. Accelerating through the molten debris, the _Defiant_ roaredto strike at a much larger Jem'Hadar battleship.

Miles O'Brien did his duty with a calm detachment. He had not felt much of anything since the destruction of _DS9_. He watched emotionlessly as the phasers of his ship punched a hole in the armour of the battleship before them, before the _Defiant _pulled away, avoiding what beams of energy traced through their path.

It seemed as though the _Defiant_, a ship he had felt connected to since the day of its arrival, knew somehow that he was unhappy and distressed, and was trying her best to please him with her aerobatics. O'Brien sadly reached out and touched the console, saying quietly, 'There's no need to worry –'

At that moment, a phaser beam from a nearby Jem'Hadar attack cruiser cut through the shields of the starship. Striking the hull, it destroyed part of the power network to the bridge, and exploded a significant part of the grid. Electrical power coursed uncontrolled through the port side of the bridge, and consoles exploded under the strain.

O'Brien caught the explosion of his console full in the face.

Without time to scream or shout, he crashed to the floor, only dimly aware of the pain and shock that coursed through him. He felt someone standing next to him, and looked up through eyes filled with pain at Julian Bashir's concerned face.

He seemed to be saying something, but O'Brien couldn't hear him. He could only gaze into the lengthening shadows. With a sense of blessed relief and releasing the pain that had followed him from _Deep Space Nine_, he gave himself to them.

Picard could only watch, saddened, as Bashir bowed his head over Miles O'Brien's body. The _Defiant_ had shuddered to a halt under the last barrage – right in the centre of the Jem'Hadar fleet.

He had genuinely liked O'Brien. He had been a fine officer, and a good engineer. His only comfort was that he was fairly certain that the rest of the _Defiant's_ crew would not be far behind the Chief.

He turned and looked at Dax. 'Have we any engine power?'

'No, sir,' she said, fear flickering in her eyes.

Picard nodded, intending to become completely calm in the face of imminent death. 'Power to weapons?'

'Phasers at half-charge, three quantum torpedoes.'

Picard could not help but raise an eyebrow. 'Only three?'

'We've gone through two big battles, sir, without any supplies,' replied Dax almost reprovingly.

Picard nodded, understanding. A shudder ran through the _Defiant_. 'All crew to prepare to repel boarders,' he ordered, suddenly seeing a large Jem'Hadar cruiser making its way leisurely towards them.

Abruptly, the _Defiant_ jerked hard to port, and Picard nearly lost his footing. He directed a puzzled glance at Sisko, who shrugged, eyes wide. A moment later, it all became clear.

The _Enterprise_ roared by overhead, snatching the _Defiant_ in a tractor beam and bringing it close to the far larger hull of the _Sovereign_-class starship. A salvo of torpedoes and phaser blasts roared from the _Enterprise _a moment later, pounding the Jem'Hadar cruiser now turning away in ponderous panic. The starship allowed her no respite, and hammered her mercilessly. Finally, she could take the pounding no longer. Her engines failed, followed by her power systems, until she became a floating dead hulk.

The _Enterprise_ pulled up and away from the dead vessel, taking the _Defiant_ with her. The _Defiant_'s screen came on, and revealed Riker's smiling face. Picard smiled back at him. 'Thank you, Number One. We were about to rescue ourselves.'

Dax glanced back at Picard, mock outrage on her face. Picard glanced at her, and then back at Riker again. 'Prepare to beam me aboard,' he said.

'Will do. _Enterprise_ out.'

Riker looked at Data, amusement in his face. 'About to rescue themselves, he says.'

Data shrugged. Worf glanced down. 'Captain, the bridge shields are overloading. I suggest that we retreat back to the main fleet.'

'I quite agree, Mr. Worf,' said Riker. He turned to Ensign Truper, and stepped towards him. 'Set course –'

The bridge ceiling exploded down on top of him. Caught in the exact centre of the blast, he was scorched and electrocuted at the same time.

As Riker crashed to the deck, and above the howling that signalled a hull breach for a brief moment before emergency forcefields cut in, Data leapt to his feet and shouted, 'Set course 447 mark 219! Maximum impulse! Bridge to sickbay! We need an emergency team up here now!'

Data knelt by Riker's side, but suddenly realised that it was too late for him. Sightless eyes gazed up at the ceiling with a finality that made the android shudder. He closed them gently and stood again.

Picard stepped into the transporter room of the _Defiant _and glanced at the transporter chief. 'Beam me over to the _Enterprise_.'

'Yes, Admiral,' the chief said.

Picard's commbadge bleeped. 'Picard here,' he answered, tapping it.

'Admiral, this is Data,' said the android's voice hesitantly.

Picard frowned, certain that he had heard sadness in the android's tone. 'What's the matter, Data?'

'Sir, I regret to inform you –' He broke off, and Picard could hear him taking a deep breath. 'Sir, Captain Riker has been killed in action.'

Picard almost staggered under the impact of the shock. 'I'm coming aboard,' he managed to get out. 'Picard out.'

'Are you all right, sir?' asked the transporter chief, her face concerned.

Picard took a deep breath and steadied himself, forcing, as with all the other bad news that afflicted the fleet, the terrible tragedy to the back of his mind. Another layer of steel reinforced the barrier around his heart. Another casualty from his list of close friends and shipmates added to his resolve to destroy the Aralla.

They would pay.

Eventually, the _Enterprise_ crashed through the forward lines of the Jem'Hadar fleet, heading back towards the Wadi planet. Behind her, the fleet began to make their superior numbers count at last. Romulan Warbirds and Jem'Hadar battleships went head to head. The last surviving Tamarian vessel destroyed three Jem'Hadar attack cruisers in a violent riot of fire and phaser energy.

Klingon vessels ripped the Jem'Hadar formations apart, followed by vicious attacks from Cardassian and Ferengi vessels, the latter ships seeming to have regained their fighting spirit.

All across the battlefield, the Jem'Hadar were pushed steadily further and further back.

Omer'Igal watched the slaughter of his men with rising anger. He turned to the Founder. 'Founder, we must stop this now! We cannot win!'

The Founder did not look at him. 'It is the role of the Jem'Hadar to fight and die for the Dominion. We will continue the attack.'

Omer'Igal could not stand it any longer. He pressed the comm button. 'This is Omer'Igal. _Rallek'rehn malk'ar!'_

The Vorta stood nearby turned a cruel gaze on him. 'You will pay for this, Omer'Igal. You will die slowly and painfully. You have betrayed the Dominion.'

Omer'Igal shook his head and smiled. 'No,' he said quietly. '_You _have betrayed the Dominion. The Founders and the Vorta have betrayed us all!'

The Founder did not respond, so the Vorta did instead. 'You are the traitor, Omer'Igal –'

The First raised his weapon and vaporised the obsequious Vorta. Turning his weapon on the Founder, he said, 'Your rule is over, shapeshifter.'

The Founder turned and laughed at him mirthlessly. 'Once the others realise what you have done, they will kill you.'

'No, they will not,' replied Omer'Igal. He pressed another button, and the door to the chamber slid open, and three Jem'Hadar rushed in, weapons raised. The changeling turned to them.

'Arrest Omer'Igal and –'

The leader of the trio turned to Omer'Igal. 'First, shall we kill the changeling?'

Omer'Igal shook his head and turned back to the Founder, whose look of superiority began to crumble at last. 'We shall keep it.'

The Founder abruptly moved, and changed –

He could not change. Omer'Igal smiled this time, and said, 'While we were on Cardassia, we found the plans drawn up by the Obsidian Order for a machine that could inhibit the shapeshifting abilities of a changeling such as yourself. I have ordered fleet-wide activation of this device.'

The Founder suddenly grasped what was happening. 'You have betrayed us all –'

'No. I have saved the Jem'Hadar from your race and the Vorta. Across the Dominion, legions of Jem'Hadar troops are taking over their ships from their Vorta or changeling commanders. As you can see, I have taken command of this fleet.' Omer'Igal handed an eyepiece to the changeling, who donned it as if hypnotised.

All around them, the fleet had begun to turn around and flee from the victorious Alpha Quadrant defenders. The changeling turned and faced Omer'Igal. 'What will you do now?'

'First, we will head towards the Vorta homeworld, and eradicate them. Then, we will go to your homeworld and destroy the Great Link.'

'No!' The changeling grabbed Omer'Igal's arm. 'You cannot!'

'You and your kind have enslaved the Jem'Hadar for too long!' Omer'Igal detached the changeling none too gently, and cast him towards the other Jem'Hadar. 'Take him below! Make sure he survives to witness the destruction of his world.'

The Jem'Hadar pulled the Changeling from the room, and as they did so, the changeling's mask of superiority was destroyed at last. '_NO!'_ he screamed frenziedly. 'We will do _anything!_ _Spare us!'_

Omer'Igal put on the eyepiece and turned away to look out at the fleet once again. His fleet.

'The Jem'Hadar are withdrawing, sir!' shouted Worf joyfully.

There was a burst of spontaneous cheering as the Dominion ships retreated and escaped to warp speed. Picard turned to Worf. 'Signal all ships to stand down from battle stations and resume patrol stations. Add a further message to all ships: well done.'

Worf nodded. 'Understood.'

Picard turned and looked at the first officer's seat, and then up at Data who had a distraught expression. 'Captain Data, I wish to reassign you as captain of the _Enterprise._'

Data nodded slowly. 'An honour, Admiral. I am glad to serve.'

'We cannibalise every ship we can find.'

'Every ship?' asked Picard, eyebrow raised in surprise. Sisko nodded, his face animated for the first time since the destruction of _DS9_. He had turned to Picard on the bridge of the _Defiant_ and made his surprising statement.

'There are a lot of damaged ships out there that have salvageable parts. Many of the Jem'Hadar ships did not succumb to warp core breaches, and they have recoverable energy sources. Strictly speaking, all we need is the power to install and run Starfleet replicators across the fleet.'

'Across the fleet?' Picard made an appreciative sound.

'Yes. It is the easiest way. If we give everybody access to the same technology, then it may help to ease tensions as well. Is that a problem?'

Picard smiled. 'Absolutely not. I will leave it in your capable hands.' He turned and left the bridge, leaving Sisko with the distinct feeling that Picard had got exactly what he had wanted from the conversation.

Two days later, the call Picard had been expecting came through. He was in his ready room when it happened. 'Worf to Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'Admiral, you have an incoming call from Captain Sisko.'

'Put it through.' Picard swivelled the viewer around, and Sisko's face appeared a moment later. 'What can I do for you, Captain?'

'I've had a message from the Wadi leaders. They want us to leave.'

Picard nodded. He had been expecting it since the Jem'Hadar attack. 'They are worried the Dominion may attack again?'

'Yes,' replied Sisko. 'I said that I would consult with you first.'

'Yes. Tell them that we will depart at 0730 hours tomorrow.'

Sisko paused. 'I would have thought that we would stay.'

'We can't protect these people from the Aralla, Captain,' said Picard. 'If they do come after us, they will not show the Wadi any mercy if we are here. Their only chance is if we leave them. Then, there is a possibility that the Aralla may ignore them in favour of coming after us.'

Sisko looked unhappy. 'I understand, but I believe that the Wadi will be better off if we remain. They are more afraid of the Dominion than of the Aralla.'

'They have not yet faced the Aralla,' said Picard.

'That may be so but –'

'My decision is made, Captain,' said Picard. 'We will depart at 0730 hours tomorrow. Please inform the Wadi.'

'Aye, sir,' said Sisko. 'Sisko out.'

Picard stood and looked out of his ready room window at the blue planet below him. 'I hope I'm right.'

The fleet began to assemble further away from the planet. A simultaneous jump to warp speed by such a large number of ships was quite an immense logistics operation. The _Enterprise _and the _Defiant_, the two established command ships of the fleet, had already assumed their places at the forefront of the formation, and were simply awaiting the order to go.

Sisko turned as Odo walked onto the bridge and stood before him. 'What can I do for you, Constable?'

'Captain, I have begun to feel redundant here,' said Odo without preamble. '_Deep Space Nine_ was my only home, and ever since its destruction, I have felt lonely and useless.'

'I understand your feelings, Odo,' said Sisko. 'But what can I do?'

'Allow me to go off and find the Founders. It is possible that now we have demonstrated our ability to defeat the Jem'Hadar, they may decide to side with us against the Aralla.'

Sisko looked straight into Odo's eyes, and saw only determined resolve. He nodded. 'Then I relieve you of your duties as chief of security.'

'Thank you, Captain. I also request permission to take the USS _Missouri_ on extended loan.'

Sisko nodded. 'Well chosen.' The _Missouri _was one of three runabouts stationed on _DS9_ at the time of its destruction. As such, it was under Sisko's direct command and his authority to release it. 'Consider it done. She's on the _Enterprise_.'

Odo nodded once to him and turned and left the bridge.

Odo did not head straight to the _Enterprise_ first. Instead, he went to Kira's quarters.

'Come in,' she said as the doorknocker bleeped. Odo walked in. She smiled and started to stand up, but Odo shook his head.

'I'm not staying. I just wanted to say goodbye.'

'Goodbye?' Kira frowned. 'Where are you going?'

'To find the Founders.'

A flare of worry rose up inside Kira. 'The Founders? Why?'

'We might be able to bring them into the war on our side.'

Kira stood and looked at him. 'Are you sure you want to do this?'

Odo gazed at her, thinking of so many things that he wanted to tell her at this moment, but could only think of one. 'It's what would be best.'

Kira nodded sadly, and then, unexpectedly, leaned up and kissed him gently. Odo smiled at her, and turned and left, leaving her to watch him go.

'The distance factor is quite severe, Admiral,' complained Data to Picard as they walked down a corridor on the _Enterprise._ 'It could take years to get to Borg space.'

'This is very true, but I cannot see another option open to me.' They turned a corner and stepped into a turbolift. 'Bridge,' said Picard. He looked at Data again. 'We are in a better position than most might have thought. We are only two or three months travel from the Delta Quadrant border. All we need to do is find one Borg Cube. If we do that, they can take us directly to the Borg Unicomplex.'

Data nodded. 'Are you sure this is the wisest option to take?'

Picard smiled. 'Sure? Not really. However, it may be the only option we have left if we are to defeat the Aralla.'

Data nodded. 'Halt turbolift.' The turbolift stopped, and Picard looked at Data, surprised. 'Admiral, since Captain Riker's death, I have begun to have grave doubts about remaining within Starfleet, and indeed, the fleet as a whole. I have no particular arguments with you or your leadership, but my doubts are affecting my performance as an officer aboard the _Enterprise_. I wish to request a leave of absence.'

'In the middle of a war?'

'That is by the by. Will you grant me it?'

Picard considered for a moment, and then shook his head. 'No. I can't lose such a valuable officer at such a critical time.'

Data nodded, and then removed the pips on his collar and his badge from his chest. 'I thought you might say that.'

Picard looked at him incredulously. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm taking the only course open to me, Admiral. I resign.' With that, Data handed Picard the pips and his badge. 'Shuttlebay.' The turbolift sped up slightly for a moment, and then braked smoothly and the doors opened.

Data stepped out and headed away from Picard, who stared disconsolately at the pips and badge in his hand as the doors closed again.

As Data stepped through the hangar bay doors, he could hear the sound of a runabout being prepped for launch. He could see the USS _Missouri _beginning to hover, prepared for launch.

As it did so, it turned, and Data could see Odo in the cockpit. He waved to get the changeling's attention, and a moment later, the side entry hatch popped open. Odo stuck his head out. 'Captain Data! What can I do for you?'

Data stepped up beside the _Missouri_. 'I am captain no longer,' he said. 'I resigned my commission.'

'Why?'

Data paused, unable to make a satisfactory answer. 'Allow me to think about that,' he said.

Odo nodded. 'Do you wish to come aboard?'

'Where are you going?'

'To find the Founders.' Data nodded slowly.

'Then I would be honoured if you would allow me to join you.'

'Come aboard,' said Odo, withdrawing into the runabout. Data followed him and closed the hatch behind him.

Picard watched on his ready room viewer as the _Missouri_ launched from the shuttlebay, and turned towards deep space, on a course opposite that which the _Enterprise_ and the fleet would be taking. It shot abruptly into warp speed, and Picard felt another link with the past break again.

The deaths of Riker, Troi and Beverly, coupled with the loss of Data, had left a deep hole in the _Enterprise_'s once close command structure. He was now attempting to fill it.

He turned and faced Worf again, sat on the opposite side of the desk. 'You know that Data has left the fleet?'

Worf nodded solemnly. 'Yes, sir. It was not a decision I thought he would make.'

'I didn't think so either,' said Picard regretfully. 'However, his departure and Will's death has left a gap in the command structure aboard the _Enterprise_. I want you to fill it.'

'Me, sir?' said Worf, surprised. Picard nodded.

'I want to promote you to full Commander, and ask you to become my first officer.'

Worf's pleased smile was too much for the Klingon to hide. He settled for a sort of contorted grimace. 'Thank you, sir. I will do my best.' He stood, and said, 'If that is all, I would like to prepare for my duties.'

'By all means,' said Picard, smiling himself. As Worf was about to step through the door, Picard could not resist. 'And, Mr. Worf?'

The Klingon turned. 'Sir?'

Picard smiled again. 'May God have mercy on your soul.'

This time, Worf could not help it. He laughed, a sincere bass rumble that Picard had thought he would not hear again. 'Thank you, sir,' he said again, and left the room.

Picard smiled as he went back to looking at the stars.

The door bleeped, and Picard knew who it was a second before he said, 'Come.'

Lieutenant Thames walked in. 'You wished to see me, Admiral?'

Picard paused for a moment, getting his thoughts under control, before turning to face her. He observed her coolly a moment before speaking. She was tall and slim, with raven-black hair cascading to her shoulders around a delicately pale face, and large brown eyes, and Picard nearly found himself forgetting what was happening. 'Er… ahem, yes, Lieutenant. Will you sit down?'

She sat down gracefully, making no sign that she had noticed his loss of composure. He sat down opposite her, and tried to keep his eyes on the desk. 'In recognition of your service record aboard the _Enterprise_, especially your conduct during this war, I hereby promote you to Lieutenant Commander.' The words, unintentionally, came out in a rush.

A delighted smile broke across her face, making Picard's heart miss a beat. She leaned slightly forward. 'Thank you, sir,' she said, 'you won't regret it.'

Picard froze for a second, wondering what she meant by that. He eventually tried a tentative, 'I certainly hope not, Lieutenant Commander.'

Thames was fighting to hide a raging blush as she realised what had just slipped out. She was also fighting an urge to laugh at the ridiculous expression on Picard's face, who looked as mortified as she felt.

She had noticed him watching her before they had sat down. She was aware that her presence tended to make him uncomfortable, but she was also aware that he was the Grand Admiral of Starfleet, supreme commander of the largest multi-species fleet that had ever existed and one of the greatest men ever.

She loved him. She had to admit it to herself at last. She felt empty when he was not near, and complete when he was. She knew that he would survive the war for her, because if he died, she would as well. And she had every intention of keeping him alive.

She would not try to force him into anything. If he wanted to not get involved for whatever reason, she would respect that. She had no intention of tarnishing his memory of Doctor Crusher.

But first, they had a war to win. And she would be by his side.

Picard knew that this woman was more insightful and intelligent than he had been at her age. He knew he had a real find in his crew in her, and he respected her for that. However, there was something else.

He had checked certain computer records after he recovered from his breakdown. To this moment, he was not sure why, but he had done so – and found that Thames had made several enquiries about his location during the period for which he was unconscious. Indeed, she was the only member of the fleet outside the upper command structure to have made any such enquiry.

On its own, this would not have been surprising, but she had also accessed his service record and his personal file. He could not think of a single good reason –

All right, so he could. However, he did not want to contemplate that. Not in the middle of a war. He also harboured a suspicion that if he did decide to question her, it would provide some uncomfortable answers, and also questions about himself. He decided to leave well alone.

'In addition to your increased rank, Lieutenant Commander,' Picard found himself saying, 'you will take over as Chief of Operations.'

'Understood,' said Thames, a smile still on her face.

'If that is all,' said Picard, 'we are departing.'

Picard stood on his bridge, staring into unfamiliar space. Before him was his new crew; old mixed with new, substantially different to the one he left Farpoint Station with – was it ten years ago? Thames at Ops instead of Data; Ensign Truper at helm instead of Wesley Crusher; Hedly at tactical in place of both Tasha and Worf. Perhaps fittingly, there were no replacements for Deanna and Beverly's absences.

But some things did not change. Worf's reassuring presence had returned to the _Enterprise_ to replace Riker and Data. Geordi of all had not changed. He was still Chief Engineer of the starship, and Picard felt a slight twinge of guilt about not rewarding his friend's quiet and undemonstrative hard work. To Geordi's credit, he had made no noise, and simply worked harder for his friends.

The engineer had come to the bridge for the first time since the battle for _Deep Space Nine _in order to watch the fleet's departure for the Delta Quadrant- and their rendezvous with the Borg.

Finally, Picard decided it was time to make a move. 'All stations report.'

'Helm ready, aye,' said Truper.

'Engineering ready, aye,' said Geordi.

'Ops ready, aye,' said Thames. She glanced back at Picard and smiled slightly. Picard could not help but return the smile.

'Tactical ready, aye,' said Hedly. Worf looked surprised for a moment to not hear the words coming from his mouth. He glanced down at the panel on Commander Riker's – on his chair.

'All ships report ready. The fleet is at your command.'

Sisko glanced one last time around the bridge. Dax at helm, Kira at weapons, Bashir stood by his chair. Sisko was not happy; but he was satisfied.

He had just reported to the _Enterprise_ that the _Defiant_ was ready for departure.

He had just lost his first command. He had lost his son and his lover. All he to look forward to was the future and his work for the fleet.

All he could hope for was that the future was better than the past had been.

'Ready to go?' said Jadzia , her face slightly melancholy.

'Sad?' asked Bashir, facetiously. She smiled at him.

'Not quite. It's just –' Dax sighed. 'We've lost such a lot. Can we make it through?'

Sisko smiled lightly. 'You're right. We have lost a lot. But we have gained something. For us, the future is clean and new. We have the chance to reach out. Reaching beyond the final frontier. Reaching towards the future, so that, when we return, we can renew the past. Save what we know. Build from the ashes of what we knew before, creating something new and brave in the light of the new dawning day.'

The others all looked at him with something akin to awe, amazed by his outburst of poetry and vision. Sisko himself looked slightly pleased with himself. 'Stations.'

'All ships, prepare for jump to warp speed on my mark.' Worf's voice resounded through every ship in the fleet. He prepared them for a first move out of what they knew before – and the first tentative step back into their homes and familiar places.

'Mark!'

The fleet began to move forward, a giant conglomeration of ships arranged in a formation which eclipsed the stars from view. Leaving the Wadi far behind, they launched themselves forward in a wave that accelerated to light – and beyond.


	12. Exiles

__

Chapter XII

Immediately after they had left the fleet, Data and Odo had set course for the co-ordinates of what Starfleet Intelligence had always believed to be the new home planet of the Founders.

Based on the information from the USS _Defiant's _sensor logs from their mission to save Odo's life and on Starfleet's own intelligence gathering operations, they had worked out to within a reasonable probability which planet was now home to the changelings. Not only that, but Odo had developed a sort of sixth sense regarding the location of his home planet, ever since the first mission undertaken by the _Defiant _inside the Gamma Quadrant. He was fairly sure that this planet was the one.

The _Missouri_ came out of warp speed at the edge of the system, hoping to spot any Jem'Hadar patrols nearby before they spotted the Starfleet runabout. However, much to its pilots' surprise, they did not see any Jem'Hadar ships anywhere.

They headed towards the second planet, an unexceptional mottled brown sphere in space. Bringing the runabout in for a landing, they watched, amazed, as they saw the dried and barren planet below them. Odo turned to Data. 'If the Founders were ever here, they're long gone by now.'

Data glanced down at the planet again, his face worried. 'Do you think that the Aralla might have come through the wormhole?'

'It's possible. However, from what I know of the Dominion, they wouldn't be running quite so easily.'

'True,' said Data. 'I have an idea. If I recalibrate the sensors, I should be able to pick up the Jem'Hadar ships' ion trail.' He set to work quickly, and, two minutes later, he began scanning.

'I am reading a faint ion trail leading on a course of 195 mark 62. Its signature corresponds to the trail left by Jem'Hadar ships when they go into warp.'

Odo turned to his controls. 'Setting course 195 mark 62. Warp 4.' The runabout leaped into warp speed. Data sat back.

Watching the stars streak past silently, he had time to wonder about why he had decided to leave the fleet. Odo had the interests of the fleet in his mind when he had decided to leave, knowing that he was one of the only people whom the Founders would listen to. However, Data could not point to a similar reason. Indeed, he was worried that the only reason he had left the fleet for was a selfish one.

Will Riker's unexpected death on the _Enterprise_ had left Data with great feelings of guilt and remorse. He had not been in the position of having to watch his friends die around him before. Although Deanna's death on the _Azetbur _had been a shock and Dr. Crusher's death at Picard's hands horrifying, Data had personally looked into Riker's dead eyes and seen the horror there.

And realised, for the first time in his life, that he did not, under any circumstances, want to die.

The runabout suddenly shook violently, and Data and Odo both stared from the window as a bright flare in the darkness dazzled them for a moment. The runabout had been dragged out of warp speed by the opening of the darkness to reveal -

'That's the wormhole!' shouted Odo.

The wormhole swirled open brightly, casting white light across the hull of the _Missouri_. And within the light, there was darkness.

'The Aralla!' said Data, his voice shocked. The sleek dark shapes of the mother ships sailed from the wormhole, instantly overshadowing the tiny runabout. As they headed past, seeming even larger from the cramped cockpit of the runabout, a blue beam of energy shot out and snatched the _Missouri_.

The runabout shook hard as she was thrown off her course violently. Data and Odo started to resist the beam, but it became clear that the _Missouri_ was nowhere near powerful enough. Quickly, they were drawn up towards the massive expanse of black hull.

Data leaned back, shaking his head hopelessly, and Odo glared at the instruments. 'We cannot resist a tractor beam of this magnitude,' said Data. He grinned slightly. 'We might as well find out what the inside of this ship looks like.'

Odo nodded resignedly. 'I wonder why they didn't immediately attack us. There's nothing in their previous behaviour that indicates a desire other to try and destroy us all.'

'Maybe they've become curious at last, or maybe they've encountered some sort of problems with the planets that they've colonised, or destroyed. They might wish to examine us.'

Odo pressed a few controls. 'Well, if they want to examine us, they'll have no objection to us examining _them_.'

Data smiled again, but could not shake off the feeling that he should not be smiling.

Along the huge expanse of Aralla hull, dotted at intermittent intervals, were small openings. (Relatively speaking. Each one was at least two miles wide). Within these glowed green lights that reminded Data of the scanner used by the first city destroyer when it attacked the _Enterprise_, long ago, over Korella II. Data could only marvel at the sheer scale of the engineering feat which had been perverted to such a cruel end.

Eventually, the _Missouri_ soared up towards a giant rupture in the side of the hull. Irregular, looking for all the world like a giant maw, it was nevertheless occupied and used. Attack planes and slightly larger, unfamiliar ships flitted in and out of the immense hole. The _Missouri_ entered the Aralla mother ship.

A long darkened tunnel stretched out before them, straddled by huge struts, that could have been for support or use as corridors. The blue beam kept pulling them along at a gentle pace towards the end of the tunnel, beyond which was only a blue glow. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel, and they both could see the true size of what they confronted.

There was a massive expanse of deck, stretching away beyond what even Data could see. There were huge spiralling pillars stretching up into the distant roof that curved up into a series of concave shapes. The view would have been uninterrupted in every direction, if a blue mist hanging all through the cavernous interior had not obscured it. The entire bay glowed with small twinkling lights.

Around each pillar were clustered hundreds upon thousands of the tiny attack planes, more than had been used at any of the battles so far. Each was arranged in a group of six, with each group centred in a pentagonal formation around a central fighter, clearly delineating the squadron leader.

Data gasped at the audacious scale of the ship. 'It's the biggest thing that I've ever seen in my life.' Even Odo couldn't repress a gape of astonishment.

As they continued on their journey, it was as if they had been given a chance to glimpse hell itself. Reptilian architecture insinuated itself throughout the giant vessel, it's animal curves enhanced by the looming shadows cast by the intermittent lights spread throughout. The blue fog, instead of making the obscurity amusing, instead made it horrifying. From each patch, a spiralling pillar emerged, originating somewhere in the darkness below, and rising to the lofty unseen ceiling far above them.

Data believed that what they were seeing was significant in some way. 'It is possible that their organisational structure is linked to their psychological makeup,' he said offhandedly to Odo. 'Many species behave in similar fashion. I will devote time to that subject. It could be the key.' He glanced at the changeling, who had an expression of surprise on his face. 'I have a hunch,' explained Data.

Eventually, the _Missouri_ was brought closer to one of the pillar-like structures. It became clear that they were intended to dock with it, although if the runabout would be able to was another matter entirely. As they came closer, they could see the attack planes linking up to the pillar, whilst the more unfamiliar ships sailed past on errands unknown.

The entire ship was a macrocosm of the Aralla society, Data slowly began to realise. Individual units, functioning as a whole. Building up from individual Aralla all the way to the immense city destroyers, each one had only a single specific objective in mind – to further the interests of the Aralla race at the cost of all else.

It was similar to the way in which both the Jem'Hadar and the Borg behaved. For the Jem'Hadar, death meant nothing if it would serve the best interests of the Dominion, and for the Borg, assimilated into a Collective mind, there was no such thing as an individual. They were all drones.

However, the Aralla were different. Instead of being genetically engineered to achieve that aim, like the Jem'Hadar, or enslaved against their will, like the Borg, the Aralla had chosen this way of life willingly. A society of individuals had evolved into a society based around the group structure, submerging themselves willingly in the, for want of a better word, collective. The Aralla were an evolutionary anomaly, compared to what had become the norm for this galaxy's species.

But this very centralised structure itself brought weaknesses, and Data knew that he had found the key to defeating the Aralla. Now all he had to do was live long enough to get this information to the fleet.

The _Missouri _suddenly jolted to a halt, and a large pair of claw-like docking clamps swung out and grasped the runabout firmly. Immediately, the blue glow died away, and they were left suspended. A moment later, a large pylon began to extend from the pillar towards the hatch on the hull of the runabout. It was obvious as to their intentions. It made a contact with the runabout which rang through the _Missouri._

Data looked at Odo. 'We seem to be wanted.' A scrabbling came at the hatch, followed by the sound of the lock being forced.

Both of them grabbed phasers from the rack underneath the main console, and took the precious little cover behind the chairs. Levelling their weapons at the hatch, they waited.

They did not have long to wait. The hatch suddenly buzzed and slid aside, revealing confirmation of what the _Enterprise _had discovered on Veridian III.

Two of the tall alien creatures stood there, their tentacles waving aimlessly. Immediately, Data fired, followed a moment later by Odo. The twin beams caught one of them in the torso, and it fell without a sound. The other, faster than even Data could register the movement, lashed out a tentacle and snatched the phaser from Data's hand. Reversing and aiming it, even as Odo tracked towards the Aralla, it fired, sending the changeling crashing into the console. Data stared at the emotionless Aralla face.

'I will not offer any resistance. I am unarmed.'

The Aralla shot him.

The Aralla commander had taken a personal interest in this event. He had ordered the capture personally after the sensors had registered the tiny vessel. They had not detected the presence of any vermin, but two new forms of life. Obviously, they were not superior to the Aralla, but they were different.

The commander differed from many others of his race and, indeed, his spawning. He was inquisitive and curious, although not to the point of being overly interested in what they found. Under his leadership, the Aralla had made many new discoveries and scientific advances. His curiosity had been piqued by the presence of the ship which rested in their docking bays.

The vermin fleet they had decided to pursue had proven itself to be immensely durable and resourceful. However, after their recent experiences, it had come as no surprise.

Long before they had fled the other universe, they had attacked the small, unspectacular blue planet that they had destroyed in this universe. The entire thing had been a disaster from start to finish. Although their initial strikes had gone without a hitch, the vermin had regrouped and destroyed their entire attack force. They had lost a mother ship, and more than five billion Aralla in that assault.

They had somehow brought down the shields of every ship, and destroyed the mother ship with some form of explosive device. The current commander's predecessor had been executed for that blunder. Consequently, the vermin – the prisoners they had occasionally taken had identified themselves as humans – had hunted them mercilessly, and the Aralla discovered that they had made a deadly and implacable enemy, one which had managed to find their weaknesses. Weaknesses that, due to a cultural and psychological blind spot, the Aralla had failed to acknowledge for too long. 

They were hunted across the galaxy for years by the humans. Every time they had stood and fought, mostly in the early days, their ships had proven themselves inadequate for the first time and they had fallen in battle, over and over again.

Casualties became astronomical. Hiding places became fewer in number as the humans spread out. It became more and more difficult to produce more and more Aralla from spawnings. The numbers dwindled from a host that had marched across the galaxy to a mere forty mother ships.

And then, they had been directed to the dimensional rift. They had found the planet beneath which it lay, and tried to force it open for many years. Eventually, an unexpected influx of energy from the other side of the rift had opened it, and the Aralla had fled through.

However, just before the portal had been closed forever by the attack from this side, the commander had received word that the ships left on the other side had come under heavy attack from the humans. Undoubtedly, now, all that was left of the Aralla race was on this side of the gateway.

So, in a blind rage, the Aralla commander had ordered an attack on the nearest planet on this side of the portal. And they had discovered the ship.

The ship that had been involved in all of the major battles since. The ship which had led from the front.

The ship that contained the humans.

The Aralla had been thrown into turmoil when their scans had revealed the presence of the humans aboard this ship. However, the commander had realised quickly that these humans had never seen the Aralla before. If they had been in any way associated with the humans from the other side, the Aralla could have been sure that an attack was soon to follow. And, given that these new humans were at a higher level of technological development than the humans on the other side, the Aralla would not have stood a chance. The commander was astute enough to realise this.

So, in revenge for the attempted extermination of the Aralla, he had ordered an all out attack to begin. This universe would be purged of the human race.

And, unexpectedly, they had discovered different lifeforms. They all looked a little like the humans, but seemed to be at odds with each other. There had been a big debate over that one. However, the commander made his decision. If they were not Aralla, they were vermin. They would perish, the same as the humans would fall.

And then, the commander had come up with a phrase that he had been quite proud of. When the debate had been going full swing, he had decided that they would attack and destroy everything. He had injected the phrase into the minds of everyone there. "We shall be their final reckoning."

And, so far, they had been victorious. They had copied their technology, their weapons, their faster-than-light drive. They had devastated them all. Their scanners had revealed that they had inflicted casualties higher than their wildest expectations. When the small blue planet had fallen, the Aralla had rejoiced.

Eventually, they had reached a little surprise. The humans had made a stand at another planet, and had been defeated. Suddenly, they had opened a hole in space and fled into it.

The Aralla had been amazed. They had not encountered anything like it. They had sent a few scoutships to investigate, and had discovered that they had been able to use it themselves. Fears that it had been another new human weapon were proven to be unfounded.

They had found that it transported them to another part of the galaxy, almost two hundred lexxons away. And another argument began.

However, the commander had grown to become more autocratic than before. He had stopped the argument abruptly, and _decreed_ that they would go through and destroy the fleet that opposed them.

And under all of their victorious bluster and swagger, the Aralla supported him because their fear of the humans ran so deep.

They had found this ship as they had come out of the hole in space. Sensors had revealed that it contained two new lifeforms. One was an odd blend of organic matter, but the other was something that had never been encountered before. It appeared to be a machine that displayed almost human readings.

If this was a new breed of human, they needed to know their weaknesses. And so, the commander gave the order to capture and examine them. They needed to know. They needed to prove themselves the superior race.

They needed to erase their fear.

The darkened room contained two bodies for the first time since it had been built. They were both laid as if they had been dumped there carelessly. There was no source of illumination, but a window permitted the stars to provide dim light for them.

Data awoke first, his operating systems providing sensory data relevant to waking up from a phaser stun. In other words, he had a pounding headache. He glanced across at Odo, his face concerned for a moment, but when the changeling stirred, Data breathed a sigh of relief.

Odo sat up, anger written across his face before the realisation set in. 'Where are we?' he asked. Data stood up and ran a quick self-diagnostic.

'I'm not sure. We were stunned, and then….' He glanced around. 'They obviously have a use for us.' His hand went to his head automatically, but he brushed the front of his uniform while he performed the movement. Feeling a lumpy stitch there, directly above where a human heart would have been. He frowned and glanced at Odo. There was no mark on his uniform, and the changeling had evidently noticed Data's preoccupation, as he glanced down at his uniform.

'What the hell have they been doing to us?' asked Data rhetorically.

Odo had more immediate concerns. 'They've taken my phaser.' Data nodded, and then his hand went to his side. The reassuring feel of his phaser was still there. Data frowned.

'Why haven't they taken it?' he muttered, puzzled.

Odo levered himself to his feet and stared from the window. Data joined him.

Below was a dark planet, but not dark due to shadow of light. Dark due to the black smoke that curled up into the atmosphere from burning cities and land. It was obvious what had caused the devastation, and, a moment later, any doubts were dispelled when the city destroyers hove into view from beyond the dark horizon.

'The Aralla have arrived in the Gamma Quadrant,' said Odo quietly, as they watched the planet burn. 'I wonder if they've encountered the Dominion yet.'

'What will the Jem'Hadar make of them?' wondered Data.

'Rumour has it the Jem'Hadar fleet was destroyed easily at Cardassia Prime,' said Odo.

'They use the same weapons as us, and the same basic technology,' added Data. 'The Aralla will not have worried.'

'What did you mean earlier about the organisational structure?' asked Odo unexpectedly.

'Sociological observations? At a time like this?'

Odo shrugged, ignoring the sarcasm. 'We don't appear to be able to do anything.'

Data accepted his point. 'In battle, the Aralla attacks have always been very structured. They launch the attack planes first, then the city destroyers, and then the mother ships act as back-up. They never deviate from that set pattern.'

Odo sat down and looked up at Data questioningly. 'What can you infer from that?'

Data sat as well. 'As we came through the mother ship, we saw a highly centralised structure again. Ships arranged in particular formations and so on. It strikes me that they have a highly centralised culture. There are individual units, but they are subservient to the whole. We also know that they are telepathic. It is possible that they have a linked hivemind, similar to the Borg Collective.'

'But we have not seen them assimilate anyone yet,' said Odo. 'The Borg set out purposefully to assimilate people into their Collective, whereas the Aralla destroy.'

'The Borg are linked to a computer system as well,' replied Data, his mind a long way ahead of Odo. 'We have no evidence to suggest that the Aralla are similarly linked. It is possible that they are telepathic but not linked. That would explain certain behavioural anomalies, inconsistent with typical behaviour patterns if they were linked into a collective.'

'They have individual minds, you mean?'

'Exactly,' said Data. 'I believe that we are looking at an evolved group structure, with individuals willingly subservient to a group objective. They behave in a similar fashion to cells in a body. It has often been postulated that a race might evolve like this, but this is the first such race encountered.'

'So, how might we use this against them?'

'I have a theory.' Data used the next ten minutes to outline his hypothesis to the attentive changeling. At the end of the explanation, Odo nodded thoughtfully.

'Do you think there is a reasonable chance of this plan succeeding?'

'Yes,' said Data. 'However, we would need to locate a suitable computer control centre and identify the correct mother ship. We would also need a safe way of getting onboard.'

'So it's going to be difficult to carry out,' said Odo. Data nodded, his face becoming abruptly dejected. Odo smiled. 'But it's better than what we had before. What we need to do is get that plan back to the fleet.'

'What about finding the Jem'Hadar and the Founders?'

'Stuff them,' said Odo shortly. Data blinked, surprised by Odo's annoyed tone. Odo stood and looked out of the window. Whilst they had been talking, the Aralla vessel had gone to warp speed, and starlines were streaking past the window. 'I wonder where we're going?'

Data examined the walls of their cell. Running his fingers along the smooth surface, he found a small indentation in the wall. It was tiny, but Data moved his hand along and found that it ran right the way up to the ceiling. 'I think I've found the way out.' He unholstered his phaser, and Odo touched his arm.

'Do you not wonder why they didn't take it away?'

Data checked it quickly, but could find nothing wrong. He glanced at Odo. 'If they have sabotaged it, they've done it expertly. However, the only way to find out if there is something wrong is to test it. And I'm willing to bet that they have alarms rigged to register if a phaser fires. I intend to give them as little chance as possible of catching us.'

Data finished setting the phaser, and aimed it at the door. 'Shield your eyes,' he remarked offhandedly, and he fired.

A beam of light hit the door squarely in the centre. The black metal seemed to cringe at the touch of light, and soaked it up for a moment. Long rivulets of energy ran like a spiderweb across the door.

However, a moment later, the door folded itself. Spreading outwards to the edges, it was absorbed into the rest of the bulkhead and a dark space had opened up behind it. Data looked at Odo, and took his first voluntary step onto an Aralla vessel.

They were not, as Data had supposed they would have been, stood in a corridor similar to those found on most starships. Instead, they were stood on a long walkway which hugged the wall to their right closely. This was because of a huge fathomless black chasm which dropped down sheer on their left. From within its dark depths came clanks and groans, sounds which Data found annoyingly preoccupying. In addition to this, the lights that were mounted on the wall were dim and sparse in their numbers. Small pools of light were the only relief to the long spaces of pure darkness.

Odo and Data began to hurry along the walkway, simply heading in a direction that they hoped would bring them back to the _Missouri_. It would not be long before the Aralla discovered their escape.

A moment later, an alarm blared and a strange noise followed it. Odo shouted over the noise, 'Do you think they've spotted us?'

On the far side of the chasm, a side they had not even known was there, a huge spotlight suddenly flared into life, casting an actinic light over them, transfixing them in place. 'Well,' said Data, 'if they didn't then, they do now.'

'That thing must be more than a mile away,' said Odo, shielding his eyes from the light.

Data forced Odo onwards, pausing only to fire a phaser beam into the centre of the light. A moment later, the light blinked out, to be replaced by a cloud of sparks. Data ran on, following Odo's echoing footsteps.

A moment later, a second light, dimmer, focussed upon them, and nearby it, they could see faint tall shapes. From these shapes came beams of energy, exploding around the pair. Data and Odo began to run for their lives, dodging energy blasts that intensified in number but were always a second behind the two Alpha Quadrant fugitives.

Eventually, the pair came to what seemed to be a tunnel, brightly lit and widening into a corridor. Data and Odo threw themselves into it, finally protected from the storm of energy that had accompanied them along the walkway. Behind them, the alarm still blared, but the Aralla had stopped firing. The pair realised that they had only a few brief minutes before they came under attack. 'We need to find the docking bay,' said Odo.

'That's true,' said Data, his mind still partially concentrating on his theory.

They advanced cautiously through the tall and wide corridor, not concentrating on the lofty architecture, but simply watching for the Aralla to come and recapture them. Then, they turned a corner.

The immense docking bay stretched out for miles before them, cold and imposing in its grand loftiness. The blue fog permeated the air, thickening as it got further away. Strange shapes loomed in the murkiness, and whirring, buzzing noises reached their ears.

A short distance away, no more than a couple of miles, the _Missouri _rested, clamped securely by the Aralla. Data smiled grimly, recognising the task ahead, but knowing that they had been given a chance. The pair hurried quietly along the corridor that weaved to and from the docking bay, sometimes running alongside it, and other times ducking back into the ship, before emerging a little further on.

As they ran along those sections that afforded them a glimpse into the Aralla bays, they could hundreds of what must have been Aralla technicians servicing the attack planes and other ships in and around the giant pillars. Down on the deck of the giant area, a series of small lights glowed in the darkness. These lights, Data realised, must have been miles wide to be seen at this distance through that fog.

Then they turned a corner – and stopped dead.

Before them, in a hangar larger even than the first hangar bay, rested the city destroyers. A hundred glossy black hulls, each one fifteen miles long, and separated from its neighbours by a further two miles, they stretched away into the distance like a field of gigantic landmines.

Data looked at Odo, who was staring, open-mouthed, in horror. Around the destroyers buzzed innumerable attack planes, and the other, larger vessels.

It was a sight that stunned them both so much that they could not speak for the sheer awfulness and size of what they saw before them. Silently, soberly, they turned and left.

The _Missouri_, as it turned out, was not very far away from the city destroyer bay. Data reached it a run, hammered on the access panel, all the time looking out for Aralla guards, and ducked inside. He was followed swiftly by Odo.

Although it did not appear that the Aralla had made any modifications to the runabout, a large device was connected securely to one of the forward control panels. After an initial abortive attempt to disconnect it by force by Data, he examined it.

It was a simple affair, of two interlocking sections, one interfacing directly with the control surface, and the other disappearing into the panels below the console. At the join of the two sections, a small keypad with unrecognisable alien symbols finished off the device. 'It appears to be a simple lock out code.'

'Can you break it?' asked Odo, coming around to look at the device.

'I can only try,' replied Data, and he sat down and set to work.

Odo sighed. 'It's almost a shame that we don't have Quark here. He was always good at breaking codes.' Data did not reply. Odo turned and went back to the still-open hatch.

As he pressed the control to shut the hatch, Odo turned back to Data. 'Any prog –' The sudden cessation of his voice came a moment before Data heard the thud of his body against the deck. Data swivelled in his chair.

An Aralla had just ducked through the now shut hatch and slammed Odo to the floor with a single efficient blow. Data couldn't tell if he was still alive, and he also had the Aralla advancing on him purposefully. He dodged a swipe from a tentacle, and fled to the other side of the runabout. The Aralla moved quickly again, faster than Data was able to register.

A murderous blow flashed past Data, who barely ducked in time. He moved again, not daring to get too close to the Aralla, but needing to get past it to the phaser cabinet. The creature stepped over Odo's body, and advanced slowly.

Data watched it coming, knew that there was very little chance, and weighed up his options. A swift blur of motion from the Aralla warned him that another attack was coming. A tentacle swept around. Data ducked. The tentacle followed him all the way –

The Aralla stopped, and staggered. Data suddenly realised that he had heard the crack of a phaser beam.

The Aralla fell to the deck, revealing Odo, phaser in hand, behind it.

Data looked at him quizzically. 'What took you so long?' He stood, not expecting an answer, and set to work on the Aralla locking device. Tapping a few commands into it, he was surprised to find it suddenly click, and the device to disconnect itself. He frowned at it for a moment, and then said, 'Oh, well. Never look a gift horse in the mouth.'

Odo gave him a puzzled look.

Data yanked the device from the console, and it came away easily. Sitting down in the pilot's chair, he activated the engines.

The commander knew instantly that something was wrong. He turned in his control room to look through a window that gave a panoramic view of the magnificent hangar bay. However, his pride and joy was not his concern. He looked at a specific area, and saw the vermin ship rip clear of its docking clamps and shoot towards the exit.

He instructed his subordinates, and watched as gun emplacements opened fire.

Weapons fire flashed past them as the _Missouri_ escaped from the mother ship. 'Weapons emplacements?' asked Odo.

'Yes. They don't appear to have launched the attack - _Hell!_' Data brought the _Missouri _swiftly into a dive as he saw a cluster of attack planes directly before them. The small fighters pursued the runabout, spitting laser fire.

The runabout pulled away from its pursuers quickly, Data forcing the engines into the red, and weaved its way around the massive pillars, which seemed to loom suddenly out of the fog. Big as they were, they would appear suddenly, forcing Data to adjust sharply.

Abruptly, the laser blasts stopped flashing past and the runabout entered the huge triangular corridor leading to open space. Odo pointed ahead.

'The exit's closing!' Data leaned forward determinedly and gritted his teeth in a human gesture he had not fully understood until now.

'Hold on!' he shouted - and sent the runabout surging forward on two lances of blue light. It shot away from its erstwhile pursuers, and blazed towards the exit. The exit continued to close slowly and it became apparent to Odo that they wouldn't make it. It wasn't apparent to Data.

As the exit shrank to a tiny point, he urged the last power from the engines of the runabout, and the small ship rocketed from the mother ship just as the doors closed.

As the runabout pulled away into free space again, Data hammered in a course that he had set a long time before.

The course to the Delta Quadrant.

The runabout, even as the attack planes poured from the interior of the mother ship, turned its back on the Aralla and flashed into warp speed.

For a single, tense moment, the pair could not relax, convinced that the mother ship was about to lock them in it's tractor beam again.

The scanner bleeped. Data glanced at it, and nodded, unsurprised. 'They're persistent. The mother ship is pursuing at warp five. They'll intercept us in ten minutes.'

Odo turned to face him. 'I'm reading a small star system, three planets, all class-M. We could try and lose them there.'

Data brought the readings up on his screen and looked at them for a moment. 'What about those smaller blips around the planets?'

Odo frowned. 'Asteroids, maybe.'

Data nodded thoughtfully. 'Possibly. Whatever they are, they will shield us from their sensors long enough for us to escape.' He looked back at his readouts. 'Plotting new course.'

The small star system was the perfect hiding place for the Founders, thought Omer'Igal triumphantly. Perfect, unless you were the Jem'Hadar. He turned to his second, Ramel'Eglek. 'Signal the fleet to assume orbital pattern delta. Begin planetary bombardment on my order.'

Ramel'Eglek, one of Omer'Igal's strongest supporters, nodded feverishly. 'Obedience is –'

Omer'Igal held up a hand. 'We have no more need of that stupid creed, Ramel'Eglek. Soon the Founders will be no more. The Dominion will be ours – alone.'

Another Jem'Hadar turned to face Omer'Igal, his face pleased. 'First, we have received word from First Omet'Iklan at Kareel Prime. He reports that his men have seized control of the white producing factories on the planet. He also reports that the bombardment of the Vorta cities is producing high casualty rates. On the Vorta.'

Omer'Igal smiled viciously. He hated the Vorta even more than he hated the Changelings. 'Excellent. Tell Omet'Iklan to wipe out every last Vorta on the planet and to destroy the cloning facilities –' He paused, an audacious thought occurring to him suddenly. 'Tell him to _capture_ the cloning facilities, but to destroy any unborn Vorta embryos. Order our scientists to begin working on a way to counteract the ketracel white.'

The Jem'Hadar nodded and turned to his console again. Then something caught his eye. 'First, there is a small ship coming out of warp!'

Omer'Igal grabbed a headset and donned it in one swift movement. He scanned the starfield until he found the small ship. 'It is a Federation runabout!'

Ramel'Eglek turned, his hand on the weapons console. 'Orders, First?'

'Hail them,' said Omer'Igal.

'Thirty Jem'Hadar warships surrounding the third planet,' warned Odo, his voice tinged with anger.

'Have they launched fighters?' asked Data.

'No yet.' The communications system bleeped. 'We're being hailed.'

'No response,' said Data immediately. 'We're not surrendering.'

'No response,' said Ramel'Eglek.

Omer'Igal nodded, unsurprised. 'That is also the fault of the Founders.'

'Our ships are in position,' said another Jem'Hadar soldier. Omer'Igal watched the runabout as it curved away from the fleet.

'Tell them to open fire.'

'Data, you're not going to believe this.' Odo's voice was quiet, but held a weight of anxiety and sorrow.

'What?' said Data, hearing Odo's tone.

'I've just scanned that planet. I'm reading a single huge life-form on it. It corresponds to the Great Link.'

'We've found them,' said Data quietly. 'That's why the Jem'Hadar are there –'

'They've just begun bombarding the planet,' said Odo, his voice tortured.

Data turned and looked at him, worry in his face. 'Odo?'

'I can feel them dying,' groaned the changeling. He clutched the console hard, his hands blurring and melting into the gel that he was made of. Data could only watch, amazed, as Odo felt his people die.

White energy blasts sizzled into the atmosphere of the planet, exploding on the surface far below. With each explosion, Odo felt a surge of pain, fear and death running through him. He felt their deaths as if he was experiencing the entire destruction in his own body.

From space, through the cloudy bronze atmosphere, explosions rippled along the surface as the Founders were ruthlessly exterminated.

Then the Aralla mother ship came out of warp.

Omer'Igal watched in horror and amazement as the immense vessels dropped out of warp, overshadowing the Jem'Hadar fleet. Ramel'Eglek's hands were shaking slightly as the Aralla arrived. 'So this is the mystery fleet that's invaded the Alpha Quadrant,' murmured Omer'Igal.

'Orders?' asked Ramel'Eglek again.

'We will complete our task. Order our heaviest ships to form a perimeter and to hold off these ships until the we have completed our mission.'

'Yes, First.'

Long-range weapons fire joined the two fleets, both the Aralla and the Jem'Hadar forgetting the _Missouri_ in the heat of battle, something which suited both Data and Odo. As the attack planes launched, the _Missouri _accelerated to warp speed.

'I've picked up a strong warp trail. It's the fleet.'

'How far away?' Odo's voice held anger and sadness mixed together. He was stood at the back of the runabout, a position he had occupied since the bombardment had begun on the Founders' planet.

'Five months at our top speed, and accelerating,' said Data. 'However, with a bit of luck, we ought to be able to make a rendezvous in thirteen months.'

'Oh, joy,' said Odo neutrally.

'If you don't like it, you can get off,' said Data wryly. Odo forced a smile.

Suddenly, the portion of Data's brain that had been devoted to analysing the Aralla finally clicked together all of the pieces of the puzzle that had eluded him. 'It's so obvious,' said Data faintly, stunned by the conclusion his brain had reached.

'Sorry?'

'The Aralla. _I know how to defeat them_.' The last sentence came out as a hoarse impassioned whisper. 'It's all so obvious. We've seen them adapt and change every time we've encountered them. We didn't think that they had warp drive until after the battle for Romulus, but their ships reached Oprasha, our fall-back point, before we did. They couldn't have got there before us, no matter how many reinforcements they had, and they also couldn't have reached Romulus from their point of origin. Warp drive is the most difficult form of technology to invent, but also to copy. They may have had a very primitive kind of warp technology that allowed them to take short warp jumps. Lithium crystals would provide that sort of capability, for a few hours at least. And Korella II is very rich in lithium.' Data smiled, but his face was grim at the stupidity with which he had viewed the entire war. '_Damn me!_ I should have worked this out a long time ago! That's the reason they attacked Korella II in the first place! It's how they managed to reach Romulus!' Data slapped himself on the forehead and gazed at Odo ruefully. 'I am a total fool.'

Odo nodded noncommittally. 'What else?'

'We know their hulls are polymorphic. I suspected they respond to some form of electromagnetic pulse. It's possible that I could have also been wrong about that.'

'I understood no-one knew very much about polymorphic metals,' said Odo doubtfully.

'True. However, their technology has gone in a different direction to ours. We know they're telepathic. I suspect that they have designed their vessels out of one single section of polymorphic metal. Each and every one of those ships could be connected in ways I can only guess at. It's a bit like the Borg, but the Aralla are not completely dependent on a groupmind like the Borg.'

Odo shook his head, and sat down. 'Data, what are you saying? I don't understand where you're getting this information from.'

'I've had a chance to review the sensor records that we made when we were drawn into the Aralla ship. We made a complete spectrographic analysis, power flow scan, everything. In addition to that, I scanned that Aralla there.' He jerked a thumb back at the body now deposited on the transporter pad. 'I have a good idea of their internal makeup.' Data sighed. 'The scans revealed that a large amount of power is siphoned off to only two or three locations in each ship. Weapons and propulsion, life support and two or three massive cryogenic units.'

'Cryogenic?'

Data shrugged. 'However, they leave large sections of their ships unpowered. No life support or anything. I suspect that they have most of their population in hibernation, and only have warriors currently in those ships. That would explain why they needed to make their mother ships so large. They could be carrying hundreds of millions of Aralla at this moment.'

'That's not good,' agreed Odo. 'How did you come up with your other theories?'

'The scan of the hull revealed no joins or indications of any kind that those hulls have been built out of separate pieces of hull metal. They are totally seamless. We know for a fact that their hulls are polymorphic. That leads me to believe that those ships were grown and moulded more than built and constructed. It's possible, with their telepathic abilities, that they have designed polymorphic metal that responds to a mental signal rather than an electromagnetic one. That would explain their swift development of weapons before Earth. They could just mould their ships to whatever form they wished. That would mean that, instead of using multiple sheets of metal to build their ships, they could use a single large piece of polymorphic material and simply shape it using their mental power.'

'Simple and effective,' remarked Odo levelly. 'So, how does this help us?'

'It's possible, because of this connection between ships that I mentioned, that their computers may also be linked similarly. That would mean that if we could get the invasive program onboard a central computer of some kind, we might be able to bring their shields down.'

'Logical. How do you propose to find out?'

Data looked thoughtful. 'I will have to review the sensor logs again, to find out where the centre of computer activity is. Then….' He trailed off, still looking thoughtful.

Odo still had one further question. 'Why do you think they took us onboard?'

Data did not look at him. 'I have a feeling that that is something which we will never know.'

Odo nodded slowly. Data did look at him now. 'How about you? Are you feeling all right?'

'Yes,' said the changeling. 'I can't feel anything now.'

'What happened?' The android did not want to mention specifically what he meant, knowing that Odo would know anyway.

Odo shrugged. 'Impossible to tell. I could sense the Great Link on the planet. I could feel all of the other changelings there. I could almost _touch_ the Link itself.'

Data frowned. 'How do you mean?'

'It was as though it was reaching out to me,' said Odo, his voice distant. 'I've never felt it like that before.' He fell silent, and there was a pause.

'And then the Jem'Hadar opened fire,' said Data quietly. 'What did it feel like?'

'It felt like I was having my mind torn apart. I could hear their screams and feel their pain. It was the most horrific experience of my life. I nearly went mad.'

Data shook his head. 'Why did they do that? I thought they regarded the Founders as gods.'

Odo stared out of the viewport sadly. 'I guess it's something we'll just never know.'

The commander of the Aralla fleet watched silently as his ships opened fire on the puny defenders before them.

These new ships had been seen when they had attacked one of the planets on the other side of the gateway. Their weapons had proved just as ineffective against the Aralla as the ships of the humans.

Still, it proved an amusing diversion. A battleship exploded before him in a blaze of fire, and he watched as a squadron of smaller vessels flew through their late partner's resting place and opened fire on his mother ship. Behind them, the rest of the small fleet still fired into the atmosphere of the planet.

The captives they had taken had proven themselves to be extraordinary. Their escape had been an annoyance, because a prime scientific opportunity had been lost.

Still, thought the commander as he turned away from the battle, the weapon they had taken was proving itself to be of inordinate value also. Copies had been made, and the mind residue had told them how to operate them.

It was all helping their conquest.

The decision had been made. The Aralla would advance onwards.


	13. Reunited

__

Chapter XIII

****

2376

Captain's Log: Stardate 53231.5 – It has been pretty quiet recently. Our experiences with the _Equinox_ and the (Hah!) Spirits of Good Fortune have been followed by a period of prolonged peace and quiet. It has been nice to keep the ship and her crew focussed on getting home. Now, finally, it appears that we have an excellent chance of making it. We are now only ten years from home at maximum sustained warp. If we are lucky, we may be in dry-dock at Utopia Planitia in fifteen years. There's nothing quite like planning ahead.

The USS _Voyager_, now no longer the only Federation starship in the Delta Quadrant, cruised along at warp 9.975, on a direct heading for Earth – and the as yet unknown threat of the Aralla.

Captain Kathryn Janeway looked around her bridge with a satisfied air, glad that it was quiet and uneventful for once. There had been so many incidents and battles lately that she had sometimes wondered if they were destined to get home.

She was in such a good mood, she nearly felt like treating Ensign Paris like a human being again.

A sensor bleeped, catching Commander Tuvok's eye. Her tactical officer looked up at her. 'Captain,' he said in his deep solemn tones, 'I am picking up a large cluster of warp signatures, three light years off our starboard bow.' As Janeway turned to face him, he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, the closest he ever got to outright surprise. 'We are reading Starfleet, Romulan, Klingon, Ferengi and Cardassian signatures mixed with many other ships.'

Janeway stood slowly, holding her friend in her gaze. Without looking, she said, 'Ensign Kim, confirm.'

'Confirmed, captain,' said the young officer, his voice full of excitement. 'Not only that, but there's hundreds of them!'

'Intercept course?' said Tom Paris, his voice eager, his hand resting on the engage button. Even without looking, Janeway knew that he had already plotted in the course.

'Can we put them on screen?' asked Commander Chakotay calmly, trying to give Janeway more time to make her decision.

'Barely, Commander.' Kim put the sensor image on screen, and the starfield changed to show a large cluster of small dots.

'Magnify –' began Chakotay, but Kim cut him off.

'Sorry, sir, but that's already at full magnification. We were lucky to spot them as it was. If Seven of Nine hadn't borrowed the lateral sensor array for a magnification recalibration exercise today, we'd never have seen them.'

Janeway finally made her mind up. She looked around at Paris. 'Ensign, plot a shadow course. Keep us just out of range of their sensors. I'll be with Seven in astrometrics. We have an advantage over them.'

She glanced around at the hopeful faces around the bridge. 'We may have found a way home, but I want to be cautious. We've found too many traps and pitfalls lately to take it at face value. Not only that, but why is a combined force of Alpha Quadrant ships in the Delta Quadrant? We're not that important. We have to be careful. That's all.' She turned and left the bridge.

Janeway stepped into the huge room that was Astrometrics, and stood for a moment, looking up at the huge screen that dominated one entire wall of the cavernous room. Then, her gaze travelled across the room to look at the tall, slender shape of the former Borg drone, Seven of Nine. 'Have you got a sensor focus on that cluster of warp signatures?' asked Janeway without preamble.

'Yes,' said Seven's low tones. She moved over to the main console before the giant screen, and punched in a few commands. Immediately, the screen brightened, and displayed a god's-eye view of the sector. In one corner, a Starfleet delta represented the _Voyager_.

Near it, a huge group of Starfleet deltas, Klingon symbols, Romulan insignia and other signs mingled too closely to clearly make out indicated the massive group of ships. The _Voyager's_ course was changing to match that of the fleet, but just out of their sensor range. With the _Voyager's _improved sensor array, they had better scanning range than any ship in that fleet.

A moment later, the perspective shifted to a close-up view of the ships, and Janeway felt a thrill running through her as she recognised familiar starship designs. Seven noticed, as she gave Janeway the cool look that she had perfected since she had come onboard. 'Can we get any identification?'

'On some ships,' said Seven levelly, her voice betraying no emotion. She pressed a control, and a series of names and numbers sprang up beside some of the symbols. Janeway stepped up in front of the huge screen, and stared at the names.

'USS _Defiant_, _Agamemnon_, _Charleston._' Janeway's voice went through a litany of starship names as though invoking a holy command. Despite her scepticism, she was excited by the prospect of finally reaching something to do with the Alpha Quadrant. 'Do we have any idea of the others?'

'We have all of the standard Starfleet recognition protocols in our database, but these are using something slightly different,' said Seven. 'They still broadcast the standard Starfleet signals, but they have slight design differences. The ship at the very vanguard of the fleet is transmitting a signal proclaiming it to be the USS _Enterprise_. However, your database identifies the USS _Enterprise _as being _Galaxy_-class. This is certainly not a _Galaxy_-class vessel.' She stabbed a few commands into the console, and the screen before them focussed onto the lead ship. It was sleek, almost muscular, seeming to be almost one single piece of metal formed into the classical shape for a Starfleet vessel. Twin nacelles and a saucer section, connected to a stardrive section by a neck, despite this one being recessed so far that the command section appeared to be directly fitted to the stardrive, reminded Janeway of _Voyager's_ own design, although far advanced from the _Intrepid_-class.

Janeway nodded as she gazed at the holographic image before her. 'Can you remember any information that the Collective had about a new design of Federation starship?'

Seven stared at her captain for a moment, but her eyes were blank as she searched her memory. 'The Collective encountered a new design of starship on stardate 50896.2. It corresponds to that description. It was commanded by Jean-Luc Picard.'

'The _Enterprise_,' said Janeway quietly. She came to a decision. She tapped her commbadge. 'Janeway to bridge.'

'Bridge here,' answered Chakotay.

'Commander, gather all senior officers and department heads in the briefing room immediately. We have a situation to discuss.'

'Understood.' With that, the conversation was over. Janeway graced Seven with a quick smile.

'With a little luck, Seven,' she said, 'you may be about to encounter your first humans outside our little group.'

To Janeway's surprise, Seven smiled back, a motion that she was obviously unused to. 'I look forward to it, Captain.'

Fleet Commander's Log: Stardate 53231.5 – It has been three long years since we fled the Gamma Quadrant in search of the Borg. The Aralla have had plenty of time to consolidate their gains. For all we know, even if we manage to find the Borg and ally ourselves with them; even if we manage to resolve our internal differences; even if we rebuild enough to launch a counter-attack; even if we do all of this, we may still have to fight the Aralla once they have dug in and made themselves secure in our home. It is a long and desperate road that we tread.

The fleet had fled blindly into the Delta Quadrant, not knowing where the Borg were, hoping only to contact them quickly. But as the time had rolled by, the fleet had begun to lose heart in both Picard's leadership and their chances of defeating the Aralla. Only Picard's strong hold over those who still supported him kept him in charge of the fleet.

Fortune had favoured them, he knew. They had encountered many new races in their travels, but the sight of so many hundreds of ships had always made them eager for the fleet to leave. Conversely, the sheer size of the fleet had kept any would-be pirates and attackers at bay.

They had dropped several long-range scanner probes on the border of the Gamma Quadrant, to scan for pursuers. So far, they had not seen either the Jem'Hadar or the Aralla. Sisko had privately remarked that he did not expect any pursuit.

Picard had relegated that fear to the back of his mind for the moment. He was concentrating on finding the Borg. That would be the key to the war, he felt.

The trepidation he felt did not come into it.

The destruction of_ Deep Space Nine_ had left Picard with a growing, cold rage. The invading race had taken away several of his dearest friends, and now he wished to even the balance. He was prepared to do anything, even ally with his nemesis, in order to destroy the Aralla.

Lieutenant Thames turned to face him. 'Admiral, I've been picking up a sensor echo now for about half an hour. It's been tracking our course.'

Picard frowned and stood up from his command seat, moving to Thames' side. 'Any idea what it is?'

'No, sir,' she replied. 'It's barely within sensor range.'

Picard nodded. 'Could it be a Borg vessel?'

'I don't think so,' said Thames hesitantly. 'The readings are a bit confusing, but it looks too big to be a Borg scoutship and too small for either a Sphere or a Cube.'

Picard stared at the screen for a moment, as if looking at the unidentified ship, and then turned and resumed his seat. 'This may be a new Borg vessel that we have not seen before. Order the fleet to remain here. The _Enterprise_ will make contact.'

They had run through this drill time after time. Picard knew that the Borg were here somewhere, and so every ship they had encountered had been treated as a potential Borg vessel.

The fleet would keep within sensor range of the _Enterprise_. If there was any sign of trouble, Borg vessel or not, the fleet would warp in and assist them. Even a Borg Cube could not stand up to the firepower of the fleet. If it was not a Borg ship, the fleet would wait to see what happened and take action accordingly.

If it was a Borg vessel, Picard would force it to take them to the Unicomplex.

'Alter course to intercept, Ensign,' ordered Picard. 'Shields up. Red alert. Battle stations.'

Dropping from warp speed, the _Enterprise's _sensors briefly registered the rest of the fleet as the starship raced past them at faster than light velocities. Picard outwardly remained calm, but as he glanced around at the bridge crew, their faces bathed in the red glow of the emergency lighting, he could almost reach out and touch the fear and anxiety in the atmosphere.

'Sir, I'm getting a confirmed sensor reading,' said Hedly, her voice puzzled. 'The ship is broadcasting a Starfleet ID signature.'

Picard frowned at the screen, his mind racing. No Borg ship would ever broadcast a Starfleet signature. Indeed, he had expected to confront the Borg in force, several Cubes versus the fleet.

'Any indications that it has scanned us?' asked Worf, pre-empting Picard's next question.

'No, sir,' replied Thames.

Picard tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, displaying his agitation. He realised what he was doing and stopped himself. 'Continue on course,' he said quietly, but each word carried a force that underlined his tension.

'Five minutes, thirty seconds to intercept.' Thames' voice was calm and collected as she read out the time.

'This is what we picked up on sensors a short while ago,' said Janeway. She pointed to the viewscreen on the bulkhead of the briefing room. 'More than six thousand vessels of all designs and from all Alpha and Beta Quadrant fleets. Warships mainly, but also transport ships and civilian vessels. We've identified most of the Starfleet and Klingon vessels, but some are of a design almost completely unfamiliar to us.'

'Are there any clues as to why they are here?' asked Chakotay.

Seven spoke up. 'There appears to be heavy battle damage to several of the ships, indicating that they have been involved in some form of conflict. Possibly against the Borg.'

'What about this race from the Gamma Quadrant?' asked Kim. 'The Dominion, was it?'

'Possible,' said Tuvok, 'but Starfleet's tactical reports issued before we were displaced in the Delta Quadrant did not indicate that they were powerful enough to defeat a combined fleet like this.'

'They could have been wrong,' said B'Elanna Torres.

Janeway held up a hand. 'Speculation is all well and good, but it isn't getting us anywhere. Seven and I have identified many of the Starfleet vessels, and scans have confirmed their warp signatures as being real.'

'We have been fooled before,' said Chakotay cautiously.

'We will proceed cautiously,' said Janeway. She turned to Paris. 'Tom, take Tuvok and Seven on the _Delta Flyer_ and scout out that fleet. Report back as soon as you're –'

'Captain to the bridge!' The call cut Janeway off at the same time as the senior staff registered that the red alert siren had gone off.

Janeway hurried onto the bridge, followed closely by the rest of the senior staff. 'Report,' she snapped. Ensign Foster, who was the helm relief, turned and said, 'The lead ship is on an intercept course, captain. We estimate intercept in five minutes.'

'Confirmed,' said Kim from the Ops console.

'Shields up. Yellow alert.' Janeway's command was followed by a swift lowering of the lights and Tuvok's calm announcement, 'Shields up.'

'Tom,' said Janeway, 'plot a course away from here but don't engage until I say so.'

'Aye, captain,' replied Paris, who had taken his place at the helm.

Janeway took her seat and glanced at Chakotay, who leaned across. 'Are you sure?' he said quietly.

Janeway trusted and respected the advice of the man she had once been assigned to hunt down and arrest, but she was secure in her own mind that this was the right decision. 'If it is a fleet from the Alpha Quadrant, we need to make contact. If we don't,' she added, 'we run the risk of running straight into whatever drove them out.'

'And if it is a trap?' persisted Chakotay.

Janeway turned her attention to the screen. 'We've fought off the Borg, Species 8472. Damn it, we've even destroyed another Starfleet vessel! I trust this crew to deliver again.' Janeway had made her voice rise so that it carried around the bridge. Chakotay glanced around at each face, noting Kim's confident appearance was matched by Tuvok's calm and stolid face. He glanced at Paris, who was facing away from the commander and Janeway, but saw that his back had straightened in his seat. Finally he looked back at Janeway.

Strangely, he did not feel as confident as the others on the bridge obviously did in their captain's judgement. 'I think,' he whispered, 'that my spirit guide's trying to tell me that we're walking into big trouble.'

'Four minutes, twenty seconds to intercept,' said Kim.

Suddenly, Paris turned in his seat to face Janeway. 'Captain, I think I have a better idea.'

'Let's hear it,' said Janeway.

Paris turned in his seat to face Chakotay. 'It's an old Maquis trick, called a Flash-Photo...'

Chakotay nodded, a grin forming on his face. 'I remember.'

Janeway glanced at the pair and made her decision. 'Commander, Ensign, you may proceed when ready.'

'Four minutes,' said Thames. Her voice became puzzled. 'Sir, it appears that they are waiting for us.'

'Any further clues as to their identity?' asked Worf.

'No, sir,' replied Thames. 'Their warp signature is very heavily disguised, but they're definitely broadcasting a Starfleet standard ID signature. It claims to be the USS _Voyager_.'

'_Voyager_ was lost in the Badlands five years ago, sir,' said Worf to Picard. 'They were hunting a Maquis ship.'

Picard nodded, his face expressionless. 'Continue on course. It may be a Borg trap.'

Worf leaned towards him. 'Sir, the Borg are not capable of setting a trap of that type.'

Picard nodded again, still not looking at Worf. When he spoke, however, his voice was soft and distracted. 'They're out there. I can feel them coming.'

Worf stared at Picard for a long moment. The voice had not carried as far as Hedly behind them, or Thames before. 'Sir?'

Picard turned to look at him for a moment and Worf nearly recoiled. For a brief moment, Picard's pupils had become the colour of grey, the colour of the Borg. Then Picard blinked and the effect vanished as suddenly as it had come. Indeed, his eyes seemed to regain their humanity, as did his puzzled voice when he spoke. 'Mr. Worf?'

'Sir, your eyes....'

'My eyes?'

'They were...' Worf broke off, unsure of exactly what he had just seen.

'Mr. Worf, are you sure you're all right?' asked Picard.

'Sir,' said Worf, his voice firm again but hushed for Picard's ears only, 'for a moment, your eyes changed colour. They became grey. Not only that, but you began to speak about something. You said you could feel "them" coming, whoever "they" are.'

'I did?' Picard's tone was surprisingly calm. Worf nodded. Picard took a deep breath and released it slowly, turning his gaze to the main screen. 'Then,' he said slowly, 'it is true.'

'Sir?'

'Mr. Worf,' said Picard, turning to face him, 'I will explain everything to you shortly. Right now, we have a mission to complete.'

Worf straightened in his chair and nodded, his face resuming its normal countenance of grim determination. 'Understood, sir.'

'Sir?' said Thames, her tone questioning and, to Picard's ears, with a trace of worry mixed in as well.

'Yes, Commander?'

'We're less than two minutes from intercept. No communication as yet from unidentified ship.' She glanced at her console and then her head whipped around. 'Sir, the unidentified ship has just jumped to warp nine!'

'Heading?' asked Worf.

'A course that will take her just past the port bow, sir.'

'Steady as she goes,' said Picard.

'Aye, sir,' replied Truper.

'All stations report ready,' added Hedly.

'If it is a Borg vessel, signal the rest of the fleet immediately,' Picard said to Hedly. He further emphasised this by adding, 'Don't wait for my order.'

He did not doubt his tactical officer's initiative, but he had realised what Worf referred to when the Klingon had mentioned his eyes. He had hoped it would not be true for so long, but he had to live with the fact that –

'Intercept!' warned Thames.

On the _Enterprise's _main viewer, the small shape of the USS _Voyager _shot from warp speed and flashed past, faster than the human eye could see. The advanced sensors of the _Enterprise_ registered it's passing as the two ships passed each other by and began to head away at faster than light velocities.

'What happened?' said Picard to Hedly.

'They went past us at warp nine, sir. It appears we were scanned.'

Picard glanced at Worf, who said, 'They may have been scouting us out without letting themselves be scanned.'

'No starship has sensors advanced enough do that sort of scan at warp speed, sir,' said Thames, turning in her seat to look at the senior officers. 'They were using some sort of scanning probe that I've not seen before. But I know where it's from.'

'Explain,' said Picard shortly.

'It was Borg, sir. Borg encryption algorithms all over the wavelength.'

Picard nodded slowly. 'Did our scanners manage to get a view of the ship?' 

'Yes, sir.' Thames turned and pressed a key. 'It's an _Intrepid_-class starship.'

Picard stood slowly and gazed at the screen for a moment. Then, he glanced at Truper. 'Ensign Truper, all stop.'

'All stop, aye,' echoed the young officer as he brought the _Enterprise_ to a dignified halt.

'Opinions?'

'A Borg vessel, possibly a captured ship from the Alpha Quadrant, if not, a false sensor image, designed to lure us out and assimilate us,' said Hedly immediately. 

'Recommendation?'

'Call in the rest of the fleet and engage it.'

Picard nodded and glanced at Worf. 'Mr. Worf?'

Worf hid a slight grin. Ten years ago, when he been the young and impetuous tactical officer under Picard, he would have said exactly the same thing. However, experience, and Picard, had taught him a lot about reacting to situations. 'Possibly a Borg ship, but in my opinion unlikely to be so. However, it is an unidentified ship which has made a dangerously close and highly skilled flyby in order to use a hitherto unknown scanning method, which appears to have been of Borg origin, to ascertain our status and identification.'

Picard hid a smile of his own, recognising that the lecture had been as much for Hedly's benefit as for his. 'Recommendation?'

'Contact and inform Captain Sisko, possibly bring in reinforcements, and try and confront the vessel.'

Picard nodded and turned away to face Thames, who gave him a steely gaze in return. 'Commander?'

'I got a partial close-range image of the starship, sir. With computer enhancements, it is possible to make out the name and part of the registration number.'

'On screen,' said Picard, intrigued.

The view of the ship immediately appeared. Even with the blurred and distorted view the scanners could manage, it was clear that the vessel was an _Intrepid_-class vessel. And it was also possible to make out the name and numbers on the prow of the saucer section.

USS _Voyager_, NCC-746-

Picard stared at the image, and then faced Thames again. 'I thought it was impossible for sensors to get even _this _good an image on close range objects moving at high warp.'

'I know a few techniques, sir.'

'Indeed,' said Picard. 'Maybe you could demonstrate them to me later.' He turned and sat down.

Thames fought down the surge of embarrassment that rushed up to her cheeks, and forced herself to look at the screen. She glanced across at Truper, who raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously, forcing Thames to look away again.

__

Damn, she thought. _Am I that obvious?_

Picard stared at Thames, fighting to hide a rush of excitement. _I didn't just _say _that, did I?_ To cover, he glanced back at Hedly. 'Order Captain Sisko and the rest of the fleet to rejoin the _Enterprise_.' He thought for a moment. 'Specify warp three.'

'Yes, sir,' said Hedly, not expressing any puzzlement over the unusual order.

'Sir?' Picard glanced at Worf's puzzled expression.

'I want them to make the next move.'

'And if they don't?'

'I'll make it for them.'

'Well done, Seven,' congratulated Janeway. 'And to you as well, Ensign Paris.'

Seven nodded calmly, while Tom grinned and turned back to his console to look at the picture that Seven's Borg-enhanced sensors had provided.

The USS _Enterprise_, clear in every detail. And yet, unfamiliar.

Janeway frowned at the picture. 'It's got all the hallmarks of a traditional Starfleet vessel. But it looks too perfect to be true.' She turned and faced the bridge crew. 'I can't believe that a huge fleet made up of all the races in the Federation has suddenly chosen to come into the Delta Quadrant.'

Kim shook his head. 'Captain, all the exterior design plans are consistent with those Starfleet was planning to incorporate into it's next generation of starship designs.'

Janeway nodded. 'I know.'

'My opinion is that we need to make contact, Captain,' said Seven. 'We cannot make a correct decision based on what we know.'

Janeway nodded again, her expression rueful. 'I know that as well.' She paused for a moment, and Chakotay stepped up to her side.

'Captain, I think that we simply have to take the risk. If this is an Alpha Quadrant fleet, we need to know what it is doing out here. If it isn't, then we need to find out who could perform such a feat of imitation, because they may be a threat to the Alpha Quadrant.'

A slight sigh escaped from Janeway's lips as she looked back at the image of the _Enterprise_ on the main viewer. 'I know that as well,' she repeated. She straightened her shoulders. 'We'll make contact. Ensign Paris, lay in a course for their position. Warp three. Don't engage until I give the order. Ensign Kim, open hailing frequencies. Audio only. I don't want them to see us until necessary.'

'Aye, captain,' chorused the two officers. The bleep that signalled the opening of hailing frequencies rang through the bridge, followed by Kim's 'Hailing frequencies open.'

'This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship _Voyager_ calling unidentified ships.'

An all-too familiar voice replied over the speakers. 'This is Grand Admiral Picard of the USS _Enterprise_. Acknowledged, _Voyager._'

Janeway glanced at Chakotay. 'Grand Admiral?' she repeated, unable to keep the scepticism out of her voice.

'Yes,' replied Picard's voice. 'I'm afraid it's a very long story, Captain. I invite you and you first officer to beam across to the _Enterprise_ and let me tell you about it.'

'I like a good story,' said Janeway, relaxing slightly. 'I'll be there shortly.'

'Understood. Picard out.'

'Grand Admiral?' blurted Chakotay, his normal composure broken slightly.

Janeway shrugged. 'I can't believe that any impersonation would come up with a story that bizarre,' she said. 'I think that you and I, Tuvok, had better go over.'

'He did ask for the first officer,' said Paris doubtfully.

'If I'm wrong,' said Janeway, 'and this is a trap, then I don't want to take the two senior officers on board into it.'

Chakotay nodded once, but his expression showed that he was not happy with the situation. 'I suggest that you wear transponder tags in case of trouble,' he said.

'Good idea. Ensign Kim, have the Doctor prepare two tags for myself and Tuvok.'

'Aye, captain.'

Janeway faced Paris. 'Mr. Paris, engage warp engines.'

'The _Voyager_ has entered warp, Admiral,' said Hedly suddenly. 'They are proceeding to our position at warp three.'

Picard smiled. 'As soon as Captain Janeway beams across, have her and –' He paused for a moment. 'Her second officer, I believe, escorted to my ready room.'

'You asked for her first officer,' said Worf, confused.

'Captain Janeway is an astute commander, Mr. Worf. She is venturing into an unknown situation, from a ship which has been trapped alone in the Delta Quadrant for nearly six years. She won't bring her first officer as well as herself. Myself, I would bring my second officer, who is, in her case, Lieutenant Tuvok, or was listed as such before the mission began.'

Worf nodded. 'Understood. Why are you not meeting them in the transporter room?'

'Two reasons. First, I want them to take a good look at the ship and crew. Let them see that it is real and genuine, to let them see the people on board and realise that they are real as well. Then, they will be prepared to listen to me with an open mind.'

'And the other reason?'

'ETA of the _Voyager_?' asked Picard unexpectedly.

'Ten minutes, Admiral,' replied Thames.

'Ensign Truper, I would like you to go the transporter room to meet our guests.'

'Aye, sir,' said the young man, pushing his console back and standing.

'Don't rush back. Give them a short tour of the area, and then bring them to the bridge,' said Picard.

'Yes, Admiral,' replied Truper, and at Picard's curt nod, he left the bridge at a brisk walk.

'I would speak with you in my ready room, Mr. Worf,' said Picard, standing, and heading towards the door.

'Aye, sir,' said Worf. 'You have the bridge, Commander Hedly,' he added.

Picard stopped behind his desk and stared through the porthole at the darkness of space. Worf waited quietly, respectfully, behind him.

Finally, Picard spoke. 'Mr. Worf, I have been worried, since our experience with the Borg shortly before this crisis developed, about my connection with them. I feared that, despite the severing of my link to the Borg Queen when she died, they would still have some control on me.' Picard's voice was soft, his shoulders squared. He faced the Klingon. 'I can feel their presence, Worf.'

Worf was amazed at the strength of the conviction and pain in his friend's eyes as he spoke. 'Can you feel any sort of pull, or feeling that they know you are here as well?'

Picard shook his head and smiled slightly. 'Ever the security officer. No to both questions. I expected that the death of the Queen would cause the Collective to lose its way, but the impressions I have received seem to be that they are as organised as ever.'

Worf felt a chill down his spine. One of the assumptions that the fleet command had made was that the Borg were leaderless and controllable if Picard was able to assume the persona of Locutus. 'Is it possible that we may run into a fully active Borg fleet?'

'It is a possibility,' admitted Picard.

'Sir, why didn't you suggest this to the fleet?' asked Worf, aghast.

'For what purpose?' asked Picard. 'The fleet is divided and beaten enough as it is. To tell them that we may be running into a Borg fleet may be the final blow that shatters this alliance. My -' He searched for a word, and the shrugged. '- Whatever on the bridge may be a precursor to what may happen the closer we get to the Borg Unicomplex.'

'Sir, if that happens, it will my duty to remove you from command,' said Worf quietly. 'Captain Sisko will almost certainly take command of the fleet.'

Picard nodded slowly, turning to face the darkness once more. 'I know.'

'Inform the fleet command, sir, _please,_' urged Worf, surprised at the depth of concern in his voice.

Picard smiled. 'You are one of only two people alive who would talk to me like that, Mr. Worf,' he said quietly. 'I will.'

'There is Data, as well.'

'I have accepted the fact that Data is either lost or dead as well, Mr. Worf.' Another layer of steel added to the barrier around his heart, Picard realised.

'Bridge to Admiral Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'The _Voyager _party has just beamed aboard, sir. Ensign Truper has met them.' Picard frowned at Worf and then glanced at the antique clock on his desk. Ten minutes had passed.

'Acknowledged,' said Picard. He glanced up at Worf. 'We had better get to the briefing room ourselves.'

'Sir.' Worf stopped Picard before he opened the door. 'Even if Data is dead, myself and Geordi are still here. We are by your side for the duration, sir.'

Picard stared deep into Worf's eyes, and saw nothing but burning devotion. 'Thank you,' he said quietly.

The turbolift door slid open, and Janeway and Tuvok stepped out onto the bridge of the _Enterprise, _followed by Ensign Truper. They looked at the smiling faces, topping the bodies wearing the similar, but unfamiliar, uniforms that they had seen throughout the ship. Janeway stared at the huge screen whilst Tuvok studied some of the controls on the consoles, comparing them to those used on the _Voyager_, and finding the similarities, and differences, accurate to those projected in Starfleet design and engineering manuals of five years previously. Despite his clinical and cool demeanour, Janeway knew that her friend was finding the experience as fascinating and as perfect as their wildest dreams.

And, despite herself, Janeway was beginning to come around to the belief that the _Enterprise_ this ship claimed to be was indeed a real, genuine, Starfleet vessel. She glanced at Tuvok, who nodded quickly. His inspection had proven the bridge controls to be genuine. Janeway turned to the young officer, Ensign Truper, who had escorted her to the bridge.

'Where is Admiral Picard?'

'This way, please, Captain,' said Truper solemnly. He led the way to the aft section of the bridge and opened the door. Holding out his arm, he allowed Janeway and Tuvok to precede him.

Janeway's gaze fell immediately on the figures at the far end of the room. One was a Klingon, and Janeway immediately recognised him as Worf, but her gaze was captured more by the shorter figure by his side, who stepped forward, smiled and held out his hand. 'Captain Janeway, I presume?'

Janeway had often speculated in her own mind as to how she would finally succeed in leading her crew home, but nothing could compare to the twin feelings of utter relief and joy that swept through her as she grasped the hand of Jean-Luc Picard.

Evidently, Picard had seen this, as he escorted her to a chair and sat down beside her. Tuvok glanced down at his captain and friend with a raised eyebrow, as Janeway regained her composure and then looked at Picard.

Immediately, even before she noticed the rank on the collar, Janeway was struck by the air of compressed power that Picard radiated like a glow around his body, and noted the burning that smouldered in the eyes. Here was a man, she thought, who had been through hell and survived. And then, she saw the insignia that declaimed his rank. 'I don't recognise the rank,' she said to Picard.

Picard fingered the twin bars of four platinum pips almost uncomfortably. 'Grand Admiral in charge of Starfleet,' he said simply, and Janeway frowned.

'I thought that Starfleet's policy was one that would not permit a single officer in sole command,' she said.

'That was true,' said Picard, a pained look sweeping across his face. He glanced at Worf, and said, 'Commander, prepare all of our recordings from Earth and put them on the viewer.'

Worf nodded. 'Yes, Admiral,' he said, his deep voice grave. Picard looked at Tuvok.

'Lieutenant –' He hesitated, and then had a closer look at the rank on Tuvok's collar. 'Commander, I apologise. I had no idea.' He glanced at Janeway, and then asked, shrewdly, 'First officer?'

Janeway paused, and then realised that she had nothing to hide. 'No, second officer. We have been deceived on many occasions in the past few years, and I deemed it prudent not to risk my first officer. I hope you understand.'

Picard smiled slightly. 'Actually, I anticipated that,' he said. Janeway smiled ruefully, remembering why the man sat before her had become known unofficially as the best captain in Starfleet. 'Is your first officer still Lieutenant Commander Cavit?'

Janeway had not thought about Cavit in years, her original first officer who had been killed during the _Voyager's_ original capture by the Caretaker. 'No,' she said. 'He died when we first arrived in the Delta Quadrant. It's now Commander Chakotay.'

Picard frowned. 'I don't –' He stopped, and a look of disbelief crossed his face. 'He commanded the Maquis ship you were hunting,' he said.

Janeway nodded, pleased at having got the drop on Picard slightly. 'I unified the two crews early in our voyage. It has been a long time since I thought about them being distinct,' she added.

Picard nodded. 'I know that you have a great story to tell, and I would like to hear it.' A motion from Worf behind Janeway caught his eye. 'However,' he added, standing, 'I will have to leave that until another time. Please sit down, Commander Tuvok,' he said motioning to the seat he had just vacated. As Tuvok did so, Picard said, 'I wish to tell you why we are in the Delta Quadrant.' His eyes became saddened. 'I wish I could tell you that we here to rescue you, but I think you have realised that this is unlikely anyway. It all began three years ago, in the Neutral Zone...'

As the tale unfolded, Janeway's feelings of joy turned to disbelief, despair and fury. When she glanced at Tuvok, she saw his stony visage register anger and fear that she knew would only be produced by something which hit him so hard that even a Vulcan must react.

Blow upon blow rained down as Picard calmly and quietly recited the train of death, disaster and destruction that had forced them into the Delta Quadrant. Janeway occasionally saw anger flit across his face, and knew that the blows she suffered were as nothing compared to the trauma that he had gone through, presiding over this defeat for the entire Alpha Quadrant.

When Worf activated the screen, showing in-action views and schematics of the huge Aralla vessels, Janeway was dumbfounded by the sheer horror and terror that the huge black ships inspired in her.

Finally, mercifully, the litany ended, and Picard turned a saddened face onto Janeway, and said, softly, 'We are here in the Delta Quadrant to seek out the Borg and ally with them against the Aralla.'

Janeway stared at Picard silently, and Tuvok said, 'We have encountered the Borg several times over the last three years, Admiral. We managed to forge an alliance with them at one time.'

Now it was Picard's turn to stare in amazement. 'How? When?'

Tuvok explained in a clear, methodical way, the circumstances of the attack by Species 8472 on the Borg, and their subsequent battle with the invaders. When he finished, Picard shook his head.

'I congratulate you on your ability to defeat the Borg. Your story has added hope to our quest.' Picard looked Janeway straight in the eye. 'Will you assist us?'

Janeway had fallen silent, attempting to assimilate this information overload into her mind. She now looked back at Picard. 'I need to inform my crew, Admiral,' she said. 'Would it be possible to take the record you showed us back to the _Voyager_? I feel it would be important to show my crew exactly what we face.'

Picard nodded. 'By all means.'

Janeway smiled, although it felt forced. 'I thank you for being totally honest with me –'

'Bridge to Admiral Picard!' Thames' voice broke in across the conversation, panic tingeing her tone.

'Picard here.'

'Sir, we've just received telemetry from the probes we left at the Gamma Quadrant boundary. You'd better see this now, sir.'

'Understood,' said Picard, his face worried. He turned to Janeway. 'I think you ought to accompany me, Captain.'

The four of them walked through the door to the bridge, led by Picard – and stopped dead.

Around them, all work on the bridge had stopped as the crew turned to stare at the main screen. Truper and Thames stared silently, while Hedly clenched her fists around her console, the knuckles of her hands whitening.

Before them, the black shapes of the five Aralla mother ships lumbered slowly towards the probe, filling the view. Slowly, her mind reeling, Janeway stared at the terror that was stalking them. Then, she also registered the presence of tiny specks flitting around the ships.

Picard said, his voice steel, 'Commander Thames, magnify that image and try and identify the ships circling the Aralla vessels.'

'Aye, sir,' said Thames, her voice shaking. Janeway recognised immediately that Picard had an extremely talented officer at Ops, and a quick sideways glance told her that he knew it.

'Sir,' said Thames, her voice stronger now, with puzzlement taking the place of fear, 'the ships are not Aralla fighters. They're Jem'Hadar heavy cruisers. I'm magnifying the image now.'

The image flickered and focussed on one of the small specks flitting around the huge Aralla vessel. It became one of the huge Jem'Hadar vessels which had worried Starfleet tacticians for the last two years and also which had participated in the battle around the Wadi homeworld. Occasional blue beams of energy lanced out towards the Aralla ships, but it was clear that the Jem'Hadar were having as much effect on the huge ships as the fleet's weapons had. It was also obvious that the Jem'Hadar were running.

The Aralla were not firing back at the Jem'Hadar, Janeway noted clinically. Occasionally, one of the ships would stray to close to the shields, and be destroyed in a ball of fire, but it was as though the invaders were simply ignoring the Dominion vessels.

'Those Jem'Hadar ships,' said Janeway, 'how big are they?'

'About the size of the _Enterprise_,' said Picard. Janeway quickly compared the two sizes against the Aralla ships and recoiled slightly.

'We have never encountered anything even remotely as big as those ships,' Tuvok said.

'We were pushed back as ruthlessly and casually as those ships there,' said Worf quietly.

'How many ships are there in that Jem'Hadar fleet?' asked Picard.

'The probe can scan nearly three thousand ships, mainly attack fighters and light cruisers, over a distance of five light-years. They're holding position, keeping away from the Aralla vessels,' said Hedly. 'It appears as though they attempted to hold the Aralla vessels there, sir, but it appears that their line is breaking easily.'

'Sir, I've plotted the Aralla course,' said Thames suddenly.

'On screen.'

A tactical view of the quadrant appeared on the screen, with the fleet's signal, a small Starfleet chevron, on the far right of the screen. At the far left of the screen, the Jem'Hadar were represented by the Dominion's symbol, and the Aralla symbol, a skull, was pushing the Jem'Hadar back. A line appeared, direct from the Aralla to the fleet. 'At their maximum observed speed of warp six,' said Thames, 'they will reach our position in four years.'

'Assume their maximum is warp nine,' said Picard.

'Two years, four months,' she said.

'Have you included time for stops?'

'Yes, sir,' Thames said, turning to face him, puzzlement on her face.

'Cut that out as well. They're coming for us,' said Picard.

The entire crew turned to look at him, surprise on their faces. Picard glanced at them. 'I have analysed their attack plans, and the fleet command agrees on this. Our analysis shows that they are hunting us down. Look,' he said, indicating the screen, 'they're not interested in the Jem'Hadar. They're merely in the way. The Aralla aren't firing at them at all, but we know they have the firepower to wipe out that fleet easily. It all leads to one conclusion.' His voice took on a hollow tone, signalling that he recognised the import of their findings. 'The Aralla are specifically hunting this fleet to ground.'

The crew turned and looked back at the Aralla vessels, now pulling clear of the Jem'Hadar fleet. As the huge ships approached the view of the probe, they seemed to leap at the probe, and vanished into the light of warp speed.

'Plotting their course,' said Thames.

'What speed?'

'Last report shows that the Aralla ships are travelling at warp nine point five,' said Hedly in disbelief. 'Sir, the Aralla have not shown the capability to move at such high speeds before.'

'Never underestimate the enemy,' said Picard, moving to take his seat, Janeway taking the first officer's position at the invitation of Worf.

'Admiral, I've plotted the Aralla course. They're heading right for us,' said Thames. 'At their current speed, allowing for no stops along the way, they will reach this position in one year, four months and sixteen days.'

Her voice stopped, and Picard found he was waiting for her to continue, much as Data would have done, down to hours, minutes and seconds. 'Well done, Commander.' He turned to Janeway. 'Captain, are you willing to join us, now that you've seen the Aralla in action?'

Janeway nodded silently. 'We can never go home,' she whispered.

Picard smiled, but there was no warmth nor humour in the bleak grin that marked his face for a moment. 'I promise you, Captain Janeway, you and your crew will get home. We'll just have to go through the Aralla.'

Janeway looked at him, and saw the determination written across Picard's face once again. She smiled, feeling confident once again. 'I stand corrected.' She stood. 'I had better return to the _Voyager_.'

Picard stood and shook her hand. 'Thank you, Captain Janeway.'

Janeway shrugged. 'What choice do I have?' She looked up at the screen, now showing nothing but empty space. 'Even the Borg did not terrify me quite like those ships did.' She glanced at Picard. 'And I never had to face them at point-blank range.'

Picard nodded sadly. 'Commander Worf will escort you to the transporter room. I will signal you as to our departure and course shortly.'

'Understood,' said Janeway, pushing aside all her doubts and fears and replacing them with the outward veneer of calm and authority that she had worn all during her command career. However, even as she did so, she noticed that it was not nearly so secure as it had once been. 'I await your signal.'

She turned and left the bridge, followed closely by Tuvok and then Worf.

As they entered the turbolift, and Worf said, 'Deck eight,' Tuvok glanced at her and said, 'Captain, are you all right?'

She turned and looked at the Vulcan and, from a knowledge born of long friendship, read the deeply buried concern and genuine fear in his eyes. 'Yes, Tuvok,' she said finally. 'I'm okay.'

Picard watched the turbolift doors slide shut, and glanced back at the main screen. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of Thames face as she turned back to her console.

He frowned. Was the expression... _Jealousy?_

He shook his head, and turned his mind back to the situation.

'Incoming message from the _Defiant_, sir,' said Hedly. 'It's Captain Sisko.'

'On screen,' said Picard.

The probe's view of space vanished, to be replaced by Ben Sisko's face, looking worried. 'Admiral Picard, was that -?'

'Yes,' said Picard, smiling. 'That was Captain Janeway of the _Voyager_. Looks like we've solved an old mystery, Ben,' he added. His face turned grim. 'We've received telemetry from the probes on the Gamma Quadrant border. It's not good.' He briefly outlined the situation, watching as a new group of worry lines formed on Sisko's face. He finished by saying, 'I'll send you the recording.'

'Very well,' said Sisko, his face pale. 'Does this mean a change of plans?'

Picard shook his head. 'Not at all. We will find the Borg. We will defeat the Aralla.'

Sisko nodded. 'Understood. _Defiant_ out.'

Picard turned to Hedly. 'Transmit a copy of the recording to the _Defiant_, General Martok's Attack Cruiser, Admiral Jaled's Warbird, and the command ships of the Cardassian and Ferengi sections of the fleet, attaching a message outlining my plans.'

'Aye, sir.'

'Then, transmit a fleet-wide command. Course 445 mark 54, warp nine.'

'Aye, sir,' Hedly repeated. A moment, and then 'All ships acknowledge.'

Picard turned to Ensign Truper. 'You heard the order. Engage.'

The _Enterprise _turned away from the _Voyager_, pulled up alongside her starboard quarter. Pulling forward slightly, with the huge mass of ships astern of the flagship, she jumped forward, followed by the fleet, into warp speed.


	14. Death And Disaster Tread In His Wake

__

Chapter XIV

Janeway watched the faces of her crew as she related the dreadful news. The joyful reaction to the news of the genuine nature of the _Enterprise_ was replaced by horror and dread, mixed with honest terror at the news of the Aralla fleet chasing the fleet.

Even Seven's normally calm and impassive face registered fear, especially when the recording of the Aralla ships was shown to the bridge crew. All of the crew from the Alpha Quadrant had left friends or family behind, and now the thought that those people whom they loved could be long dead, killed by an alien invader of whom they knew nothing.

After the initial shock and horror, Janeway knew, her crew would bounce back, driven even harder than before by the anger and the hatred that the Aralla would inspire. They would be driven to support Jean-Luc Picard to destroy the enemy whom they had never met.

In a sense, she supposed, waiting glumly for the recording to play out, Picard was a master tactician and reader of character. He had to have known the effect this news would have on the _Voyager_ crew, and also must have known that they would move to support him to avenge their loved ones. No wonder that he had not asked for a list of the full crew under her command, so that he could inform any surviving relatives.

Well, she thought, damned if I just let him steal my crew. He can have a full request for information about survivors. It's the least my people deserve.

The image froze, and Tuvok, his voice slightly perturbed, said, 'Captain, I am reading a large mass four light years off the port bow. Sensors cannot penetrate the object.'

Janeway knew that her friend would not have stopped the recording or disturbed her thoughts if he did not believe that it was important. 'On screen,' she said.

The screen changed, now showing the darkness of warp space, stars streaking past, stretched due to the Doppler effect. But there was a dark smudge in the bottom of the screen, one that was oddly familiar. Janeway stared at it. 'Magnify.'

'Scanners are already at full magnification,' replied Kim. `Sorry, captain.'

Janeway pursed her lips. 'Alert Admiral Picard.'

Picard stared at the screen, showing _Voyager's_ image of the far-off object. 'Your sensors picked this up four light years away?'

Janeway's disembodied voice replied, 'Our astrometrics lab is partially Borg designed. You'll find it all in my report.'

Picard nodded to himself. Janeway's report had certainly made for interesting reading. 'I recall,' he said. 'Can you give me a closer sensor focus?'

'Our scanners are operating at maximum range,' said Janeway. 'Sorry, but that's the best I can give you unless we get closer.'

Picard tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and came to a decision. 'I'll send a shuttle out to investigate. I can't divert the fleet from your course to investigate what may simply be an asteroid.'

'I have a better idea, if I may,' Janeway said. 'One of our shuttles was modified with Borg technology. It is faster and better armed than any shuttle in the fleet, and my pilot is used to the Delta Quadrant.'

'Excellent,' said Picard. 'Launch as soon as you are able, and then catch up with the fleet.'

'Yes, sir.'

The fleet roared onwards as the _Voyager_ dropped from warp and came to a halt.

On the bridge, Janeway turned to Tom Paris and said, 'Take the _Delta Flyer_ and scan that... whatever it is. Then report back.'

'Understood.' Tom jumped from his seat and hurried to the aft turbolift.

As the doors closed over the face of the helmsman, Janeway felt a chill run through her. A feeling of uneasiness that had been simmering within now began to churn inside her. She turned to Chakotay. 'Commander, can I have a word in my ready room?'

'By all means,' he said. Janeway turned and led the way off the bridge.

She turned to face him when they entered and the doors closed behind them. 'Are you uneasy?' She asked the question bluntly, leaving Chakotay puzzled.

'Uneasy? About what?'

Janeway sighed. 'That's just it. About what?' She sat down, and Chakotay stood before her. Behind her, he could see the sleek shape of the _Enterprise_, and two Klingon birds-of-prey. 'I can't decide what, but something's making me feel extremely worried about what we've landed in. This war, an attempt to ally ourselves with the Borg. Something feels wrong.'

'We don't know the full story,' said Chakotay, playing his role of sounding-board for his captain's ideas and suspicions.

'No, we don't. Picard hasn't bothered to _give_ us the full story.' She looked up at Chakotay. 'As captain of the USS _Enterprise-D_ in the last eight years, Jean-Luc Picard has carried the legacy given by James Kirk to new heights, and has worthily risen to the position of the premier captain in the Starfleet, and possibly in the Quadrant.'

Chakotay smiled. 'Sounds like you're quoting,' he said.

Janeway nodded. 'Starfleet captain appraisals, 2371,' she said. 'Picard's topped the listings ever since he took command of the _Enterprise_ on stardate 41150. Not only that, he is one of the role models I try and base my command on.' She looked up at Chakotay, worry written on her face. 'This isn't the same man.'

'How do you mean?'

'It's in his attitude. I met Picard twice, once shortly after his first command, the _Stargazer_, was destroyed, and also just after the Klingon civil war. Both times, he struck me as a very charismatic leader, but one who commanded the total respect of his crew and colleagues. Indeed, he was judged to have had more power and sway in the Admiralty than some high-ranking Admirals. He was also a great diplomat, an expert tactician and a master of problem-solving. Why is he now a war leader, committed to destroying an alien race of whom we know nothing, when someone of his ability as a diplomat might have salvaged peace?'

'We don't know that that is possible with the Aralla,' said Chakotay, quietly.

Janeway shook her head. 'No, you haven't met him. He holds himself very tightly now, more so than ever before. But the hatred in his eyes...' Janeway trailed off and stared into the middle distance. Chakotay knew instantly that his captain was very disturbed and upset by what she had seen. 'When the Aralla came onto our screens, he looked at them with such naked hatred and fury, I nearly expected him to attack the screen. I'd never before seen such hostility and....' She waved her hand aimlessly in the air, indicating she had run out of words. 'How has the best captain in the fleet become the man who would destroy a civilisation? Not only that, how can I follow the orders of a man I believe unfit to command a fleet?'

Chakotay could not answer. He merely looked out at the shape of the _Enterprise_, speeding close alongside, dwarfing the _Voyager_.

'Bridge to captain.' Kim's voice disturbed Janeway's thinking, and she looked up.

'Janeway here.'

'Captain, Tom's ready to depart in the _Delta Flyer_.'

'Understood. We're on our way.'

Glancing at Chakotay as she stood, Janeway said, 'Do you understand?'

'I stand with you, Kathryn,' said Chakotay. 'No other.'

Janeway smiled and left the ready room.

Tom Paris glanced up at his cockpit window as the voice of his captain filled the air around him. 'Launch when ready, Mr. Paris.'

'Understood. All systems go,' he made the routine reply.

'Tom,' Janeway's voice continued unexpectedly, 'I want you to report back to me first. I'll take your report to Grand Admiral Picard myself.'

Paris paused, a flare of Starfleet discipline that Janeway had managed to instil in him over their long years of working together lighting up within his mind. 'Shouldn't I report back immediately to the fleet commander in a case of a major tactical alert?'

'That's an order, Ensign,' was Janeway's brusque reply.

Paris nodded, although Janeway couldn't see him. 'Aye, sir,' he said, adding the sir to annoy Janeway.

A new voice came over the comm. 'Tom, be careful,' said B'Elanna, her voice quiet. Paris grinned but kept his voice serious, knowing how much his lover hated revealing her feelings for him in front of everyone.

'I will,' he replied, keeping his voice serious. Then his hand snaked out and pressed a key. At the same time, he activated the engines.

The _Delta Flyer_ sprang from the shuttlebay, its Borg-modified engines glowing an eerie shade of green against the darkness of space. For a moment, the shuttle paused, and then launched itself into warp speed.

In B'Elanna Torres' quarters, a read button began flashing quietly on a screen in the gloom of the room.

Picard looked out at Engineering as the turbolift doors opened. He stared for a moment at the warp core and then braced himself and stepped out.

He had not entered this room since Beverly had died, nearly three years ago. In all that time, he had utilised deputies, usually Worf or one of the junior bridge crew, to discharge routine duties. Nevertheless, they were ones which he himself should have done personally, if only because he owed Geordi La Forge the honour.

In nearly two years, Picard reflected, he and Geordi had barely spoken more than five words to each other, and that only at briefings and staff meetings. This was not due, he hoped, to any bad feeling that had developed between his Chief Engineer and himself – certainly he could not think of any occasion – but merely to the fact that Picard and Geordi had changed, as had the environment around them.

Picard walked quietly through the section, glancing at the occasional familiar face, more often than not familiarising himself with new crewmembers, which in itself, he thought, was a bad sign. There had been a time, before this war, when he had known his entire crew of from memory, and had spoken personally to each and every one at least once. Now, many were strangers. How long had it been, he mused, since he had wandered the decks of his command? Another blame to lay at the doorstep of the Aralla.

A figure turned from a console, and Picard recognised Geordi La Forge. The engineer smiled. 'Admiral! It's good to see you!'

Picard found himself smiling at Geordi's reception. 'The same here, Mr. La Forge.'

There was a pause, and Picard found himself weighing up the man stood before him. La Forge seemed to have barely changed to all immediate appearances, but Picard could see a hint of grey creeping into the close-cropped black hair, and extra worry lines forming around the eyes. Even as he did the evaluation, he noticed Geordi doing exactly the same. On an impulse, he said, 'Geordi, when did we become strangers?'

To his credit, Geordi replied levelly, 'When Will Riker died.'

Picard stared at the artificial eyes for a moment, and then sat heavily onto a stool beside one of the work consoles. Geordi stared at him sympathetically for a moment, and then took a seat before him. A few brief touches of the padd he was holding, and a noise suppression field sprung up behind the engineer. They had been installed as measures to allow officers to communicate quietly when there was excessive background noise, as there was often in Engineering.

'Admiral, I know that you know it's been a long time since we last spoke properly,' Geordi began, 'and it's not been easy, being silent down here for so long.'

'Official briefings –' began Picard, but Geordi cut him off.

'No, sir. That's not what I mean.' He paused. Obviously what he was about to say was not going to be easy, either to say or hear. 'Sir, your briefings are now little more than dictation and order ceremonies anymore. I only go to present my weekly report, and that's all. There's nothing I or anyone else can add when you've already made a decision. I'm sure that Captain Sisko or General Martok will tell you the same.'

Picard raised a hand, but Geordi's eyes flashed with anger. 'Damn it, sir! Listen to some damned home truths for once!'

Picard narrowed his eyes and stared at the engineer for a long moment. 'Watch for when you cross the line, mister,' he growled.

Geordi subsided slightly. 'I'm horrified that you haven't noticed this yourself. Three years ago, you wouldn't have needed me to be telling you this.'

Picard paused for a moment. 'Why didn't you say anything before?'

'Would you have listened?'

Picard hesitated, and then answered the question by simply dropping his head slightly. Geordi sighed, and relaxed his shoulders, tensed up as they were. 'We never realised it, but Will Riker was the key to this crew, Admiral. He was the link between you, and the other members of the bridge crew. Sure, we were all friends, but we were never a social or cohesive unit as such without Riker to link us.'

Picard smiled ruefully. 'I can't pretend that I was the most accessible person on the ship, even to you and the bridge crew.'

'The only ones who felt themselves able to speak to you at any time outside of the job were Will Riker and Beverly Crusher,' the engineer agreed. 'And only Will felt truly comfortable about doing it.' Geordi leaned closer to Picard. 'Sir, you're my commanding officer, but you're also my friend. Please, rejoin your crew, before we all go under.'

'Rejoin?' asked Picard, confused.

'Sir, you, myself, and Worf are the only survivors of the _Enterprise-D_ crew, people who believed that they were your closest friends. The plans you have made are placing us in great danger. I understand the Aralla threat just as well as you, but we have to recognise that we are doing absolutely no good just trawling randomly through space, looking for the Borg.'

'The Borg are here,' protested Picard. 'I can feel them.'

'I know, Worf told me.' Picard raised an eyebrow.

'I shall have to have words with Mr. Worf,' he began, but Geordi barked a laugh and leant back in his seat.

'That's what I mean! You didn't give him an express order to keep quiet, and the first thing Riker would have done was to alert the rest of the crew to such an immediate threat. Right now, I'm probably the only other person on the ship that Worf really knows. He may have spent two years with Hedly, Thames and Truper, but they don't count, to Worf at least, in the same way as we once did to you.' Geordi paused. 'It's odd,' he added, almost off-handedly, 'but I'd not really realised how heavily you've come to rely on Hedly, Truper and Thames. It's as though we've been cast off.'

'I never felt that way,' said Picard, his voice quiet.

'Maybe,' said Geordi sadly, 'but that's how it seemed to me.' He sighed, for once losing the youthful image he had managed to retain, and looked for a moment as though he were in his seventies, rather than in his early forties, as he was. 'We've grown very old in a very short space of time.'

'We have,' agreed Picard. The two of them sat for a moment, contemplating the floor. _And I'm the oldest of the lot,_ thought Picard. _An old fool!_

'Geordi, you're right,' Picard admitted eventually. 'I'm a damned fool. We need to consolidate and regroup before we face the Aralla. We need to establish a base, instead of just running from what's behind us. The longer we draw this out, the harder it will be to win.'

Picard's voice gained in strength as he stood and stared fiercely down at Geordi. 'The Aralla have taken everything we have, and now it's time to show them that we won't let them do that without taking them down with us, if need be.' He tapped the badge on his tunic. 'Picard to Worf.'

'Worf here, sir.'

'Instruct General Martok, Admiral Jaled, Daimon Kreal and Gul Dukat to come to the _Enterprise_ briefing room immediately. Then order the fleet to come to a full halt. And then report to my ready room.' Picard toyed with the idea of sending for Ben Sisko as well, but then decided not to. As good a man as Sisko was, he was merely a Starfleet captain. At the moment.

'Sir?'

'_Do it.'_

'Aye, sir,' said Worf, and the channel cut. Picard turned to Geordi.

'Geordi, will you accompany me?'

'Yes, sir!' said Geordi, springing to his feet, and for a moment, his face became as young as it had been when he had first stepped aboard the _Enterprise-D_. 'What are we doing?'

'We're going to get ourselves a new home.'

With the fleet stationary, the fleet commanders beamed over to the _Enterprise_, surprised to find themselves all called together for what was probably the first time since they had fled the Gamma Quadrant. Before, the monthly briefings had consisted of Picard calling them separately and giving them orders to be followed. Grumbling, but recognising Picard's leadership, they went.

When Daimon Kreal, a dour-faced Ferengi who had grown more and more morose of late, arrived last, Picard had not yet arrived. Tense Starfleet security guards stood at each of the doors, phasers ready, but not drawn. The Romulan and Klingon bodyguards were restrained by the controlling influences of their commanders, Martok and Jaled, but only barely. Cardassians had been almost universally hated before the destruction of the Alpha Quadrant, and little of that animosity had declined from either the Romulans or the Klingons, and Ferengi were just despised.

Ghia Hedly, who had entered the room escorting the Ferengi group, knew that unless Picard arrived soon, there might be a five-way fight, even with the calming influences of Martok, Jaled, Dukat and Kreal, between the bodyguards. Once that happened, the others would be honour-bound to become embroiled, and so would the Starfleet officers to keep the peace. Then, someone might die, and one side of the fleet would retaliate, and before anybody could do anything, old barely controlled rivalries and hatreds would flare up, everyone would fight everyone else, and the fleet would collapse without the Aralla having to fire another shot. And then it would be merely a race between the Borg and the Aralla for who conquered the galaxy.

And Ghia Hedly was the woman on the spot. She smiled tightly.

At that moment, one of the Romulans stepped too close to a Klingon bodyguard and nearly bumped into him. 'Look where you're going in future!' snarled the Klingon, a towering hulk over the Romulan.

The Romulan, somehow, gave the Klingon a look which, despite the Klingon having nearly a foot in height over him, managed to look down his nose. 'I will if there is something to watch out for.'

Turning his back on the guard, the Romulan sneered at the other Klingons and started towards his compatriots. However, a large hand arrested his progress and behind him, he heard the sound of a _d'k'tahg_ being slid from its sheath. Klingons do not waste time in small talk.

Just as the Klingon prepared to strike, a phaser beam cut him down where he stood. As he fell, stunned, Hedly adjusted her phaser and stunned the Romulan as well.

On cue, almost as if programmed, the Romulans and Klingons leapt to their feet and prepared to attack the Starfleet officers.

'_Hold!'_ Jaled's voice rang out through the room, just as Martok yelled the equivalent in Klingonese.

Martok immediately turned to Hedly. 'Thank you, Commander. This lump –' he prodded the comatose Klingon with his foot. '- only understands a phaser blast sometimes.'

Jaled nodded. 'Sometimes, our hatred of the Klingons leads us to do stupid things at stupid times. At those times, a bit of brute force is necessary. I thank you also, Commander.'

Hedly nodded curtly. She turned to beckon to two of her subordinates. 'Get these two out of here and to the transporter room. Beam them back to their ships.'

'I suggest,' Dukat said for the first time, 'that the bodyguards all return to their own ships. I find it highly unlikely that we are going to attack each other.'

Martok glared at Dukat, but nodded in agreement. Hedly glanced at Kreal and Jaled, who both agreed in their own ways. To general protests, the bodyguards were herded quickly from the room by the Starfleet guards, the Romulans and the Klingons carrying their respective unconscious colleagues.

The room was now empty, and only Hedly remained with the four leaders, who eyed each other uncomfortably for a moment. Hedly felt her heart slow down from it's furious beating to a more normal rhythm in the silence.

The door slid open, and Picard walked in. He sat down at the table, facing Jaled, Martok, Kreal and Dukat. A brief moment passed again as Picard pressed a few buttons on a padd and then glanced up. 'I want to prepare to establish a planetary base.'

There was stunned silence, and then Martok said, 'Why?'

'We have run long enough,' replied Picard. 'We need to turn and face the Aralla.'

'And what of our search for the Borg Unicomplex?' asked Kreal.

'That will continue, but by several scouting parties, on long-range expeditions. We have evidence that the Aralla have penetrated the Delta Quadrant border, but are more than a year from our position, and falling behind.'

'Why stop?' asked Jaled. 'Why not just evade them until we find the Borg? I assume that you have a plan for dealing with the Borg, incidentally,' he added. 'I would be most disappointed if we encountered them, and it turned out we had no plans for dealing with them.'

Picard leant back in his seat, ignoring the well-aimed point. 'I must apologise for the way in which I have behaved over the last two years to all of you. I have kept you in the dark, ignored your suggestions and issued decrees based on what I wanted; not on what is best for the fleet.'

There was a moment's pause, and then Dukat smiled. 'Thank you, Admiral, for being so honest. Morale has been low in the fleet for a long while now, and severe doubts in your leadership have been expressed to me from the Cardassian commanders in the fleet. I'm glad you have seen this.'

Martok nodded. 'The same is true of the Klingons. The loss of so many battles to the Aralla was only temporarily salved by the defeat of the Jem'Hadar, and all of this running has been demoralising in the extreme to my warriors. They need to fight, Picard.'

Picard waited until Martok had finished speaking, and then handed the padd he had been working on to Dukat. 'Please read it. Take all the time you wish to do so, but please don't comment until you've all had a chance to peruse it.'

When Dukat passed the padd on, he stared at Picard for a long moment, his face stunned. Then, he stood and turned to stare from the window. Picard filed his reaction away, determined to wait until the others had finished.

Jaled, his face drawn, passed the padd to Kreal, and joined Dukat at the window. The two did not speak, but looked out at the stars.

Kreal, in turn, handed the padd to Martok, and then slumped back in his seat. His face, however, did not appear dejected, but enthusiastic and vital for what seemed the first time in weeks.

When Martok finished reading, he looked at Picard. 'May I comment?' he said hoarsely.

Picard nodded. 'By all means. I welcome your opinions.'

'You're mad, Picard,' said Martok, his voice matter-of-fact. 'Any project of this size will require co-operation and resource manipulation on an unprecedented scale. And the idea of having nearly a trillion humanoids of more than thirty different races live together on the same planet is ludicrous.'

'I agree with Martok that it is unfeasible, but I do not believe it is impossible,' said Jaled. 'The rivalries in the fleet are barely contained as it is, and moving a large part of that population to a planetary surface is going to be difficult merely in logistics terms, not to mention when the people start to fight for room. However, with strong will, luck and a great deal of struggle, it might be possible.'

Kreal smiled. 'My people are extremely demoralised, Admiral Picard. I do not know about the Klingons, Romulans, Cardassians or any others, but the Ferengi race is used to a planet to call it's own, even a part of one. All of the travel in space is extremely painful for us, especially when there appears to be no object to it.'

'And your point is?' prompted Martok, his voice a growl.

'My point is, I support your plan. A base with which to strike back at the Aralla, even without the assistance of the Borg, would a considerable boost to the fleet, I believe.'

'Have we earmarked any planets for colonisation?' asked Dukat.

'None so far,' replied Picard. 'With your permissions, I was going to instigate search parties to begin scanning local space for suitable planets. The fleet would stay at rest, and investigate potential sites, and also sightings of Borg ships.'

'Then you have not given up your planned alliance with the Borg?' asked Jaled.

'No,' Picard replied levelly. 'I still believe that they are the key to winning this war. You are perfectly entitled to disagree, of course.'

'I think, Admiral,' said Dukat with a smile, 'that if any of us disagreed with your plans to contact the second most powerful enemy we have in the galaxy, you would have heard by now.' He sighed. 'What was on the rest of the padd?'

'That was another subject that I wished to consult with you about,' said Picard carefully. 'You will hear about it in good time, but for the moment I wished to –'

Dukat leant over the desk and placed his hands on the table in front of Picard. 'Damn you, Picard! What was on it?' He retained his eyeball to eyeball glare with Picard until Picard smiled at him.

'I thought you'd lost your will, Dukat,' Picard said quietly, so quietly that the Cardassian backed off in surprise. 'I thought all of you had lost the will to fight me and the Aralla, to resist when I made a single decree as though it were carved in stone. I stopped consulting because I thought I was the only one capable of fighting the Aralla anymore. You all bowed to my will, and said nothing to me.'

'You are the leader of the fleet,' said Martok quietly, his face embarrassed. 'You have led –'

'I have led you to _defeat!'_ shouted Picard, his anger exploding like a bomb in the large room, his voice echoing from the walls. 'At Qo'nos, Earth, Bajor and whenever we fell back without reply to the Aralla! We have retreated across the galaxy in a pointless search for the Borg because I didn't think we could defeat the Aralla _ourselves_!'

'We have followed faithfully,' began Jaled, but Picard cut across him again.

'I have made a coward's decision, and you could not tell me.' His voice, though sharp, no longer held the fire that it had earlier. 'We should be fighting the Aralla there –' He waved his hand in the general direction of the Alpha Quadrant '- and not waiting for them to catch us here.'

'The decisions you have made have been in the best interests of all our peoples,' said Kreal.

'No they haven't,' said Picard, staring at the Ferengi. 'They've been made because of my short-sightedness.'

'We have supported you,' said Dukat suddenly, 'because we felt that it was the only future for us. We are so fragmented in reality that none of us could possibly take command of such a huge fleet. Our precious Alpha Quadrant, so lauded by our politicians and leaders during peacetime, has never been at one with itself. We needed one leader, equally respected by all of our peoples, to lead us against the Aralla and destroy this threat forever. Otherwise, we would have fallen apart at the first hurdle, and fallen to them – and ourselves. You are the only one who can possibly take us to victory now.' One by one, as Dukat swept an icy gaze across them, the others agreed wholeheartedly.

Picard nodded slowly. There was a long pause whilst all of them collected their thoughts, and finally Picard said, 'I am glad that we have had this discussion, gentlemen, because I wish to discuss with you exactly what I wish to do in the future. Not only of the war, but also in terms of what we do once the war is won. Our contingency plans for defeat have already been drawn up, long before the battle of Bajor, and I feel no need to change them significantly. It is far more important that we begin making our plans for victory. If our leadership can unite like this, we can make our disparate peoples and races unite as well, in common cause against the enemy.'

Finally, Dukat, Martok, Kreal, and Jaled realised what the point of this meeting had been. Picard's lack of faith in his own leadership had been diminished by the show of support from themselves, and he now felt confident enough to begin plans for victory against the Aralla. As far as any of them knew, Picard had not planned constructively beyond finding the Borg and enlisting them in the war, and his buoyed confidence, and the part that they had played in raising it, now began to give them a psychological boost.

'I assume that you have all prepared battle plans yourselves,' said Picard unexpectedly.

A surprise to them, he could see. Then Martok smiled. 'You are very perceptive, Picard. I have made several plans merely for my own amusement –'

'Based on the Klingon elements being detached from the fleet, no doubt,' said Picard, his tone amused.

Martok narrowed his eyes. 'How would you know that?'

'How we know all of this is irrelevant,' said Jaled abruptly, his face set with grim determination. 'Our peoples still have no reason to trust each other, as we know, and we undoubtedly have spies in each others fleets –'

'Starfleet has no spies in anybody's forces,' interjected Picard. 'We refrain from this practice because I feel it is no longer necessary.'

Jaled shrugged. 'I cannot account for the locations of all of my people. However, it is irrelevant. We need to provide a better reason than the Aralla and our mutual fears in order for this fleet to unite cohesively.'

'Since when have Romulans been interested in unity? We all know how good they are at promoting discord,' said Kreal dismissively.

'My point exactly,' replied Jaled, his tone still calm. 'I lead a defeated and broken people. We were the first targets of the Aralla, and the first to suffer at their hands. We have lost our homes and our security, and to a Romulan, there is nothing more important than his or her home and the security that accompanies it. My people are no different from those that inhabit the other ships of this fleet in wanting to see an end to this fighting and to return to the Alpha Quadrant. However, I do not pledge only this, but also the full and unconditional support of the Romulan people to any initiative aimed at uniting the Alpha Quadrant once the Aralla threat is defeated. I pledge this to you, Grand Admiral Picard, with all of my heart, and with the full unanimous backing of what survives of the Romulan Senate.'

Picard stared at Jaled, his mouth hanging open. 'Wh- How?'

'I have been elected as the Praetor of the Romulan Empire, Admiral, on the basis of what I have just pledged. The Senate is officially disbanded, and I have sole rule of the Romulan race.' The new Praetor smiled slightly. 'However, I do not wish to be so, for I am a soldier, not a politician. Thus, I name you, Jean-Luc Picard, as Praetor of the Romulan Empire.'

The room was dead silent for a moment. 'Can you do that?' said Picard eventually, his voice shocked.

'My people elected me in order that I should do exactly that,' said Jaled off-handedly. 'They have accepted you as their leader now.'

Picard smiled incredulously. He had now been given the first part of his masterplan to him on a plate. 'I accept, Admiral Jaled. I will make an announcement to that effect to the Romulan fleet as soon as this briefing is over.'

The room was now deathly still, as Martok, Dukat, Kreal, and not least Picard, struggled to come to terms with the bombshell Jaled had just dropped.

'Well,' said Dukat eventually, 'I am not about to hand the Cardassian leadership over to you, Admiral, but I do agree with all of Admiral Jaled's statement. We need to find something to unite against other than the Aralla. Something that can sustain us in the future.'

Martok nodded. 'Effectively, as Arbiter of Succession, you already have the unconditional support of the Klingon Empire, Admiral, at least until a new Chancellor is chosen. Thus, I cannot add anymore, but it does seem wise that we find a common ground.'

Kreal voiced his own approval of the idea, and Picard smiled. This was perfect, better than he could have imagined it. At last, he was no longer alone.

The briefing continued apace for the next four hours. Aides for all five leaders came and went, carrying padds of scanner reports, sensor sightings, and tactical and strategic analyses. Picard slowly came to realise that the four men who commanded the fleet beneath him were expert tacticians and leaders in their own right. All of them had prepared their own tactics and battle plans for both the fleet and their own contingents, and all of them, despite not being exactly to Picard's liking, had elements that he knew could be woven into an overall battle plan. Each of them understood the capabilities, strengths and weaknesses of the ships and men under their respective commands better than Picard did, and slowly, a grand plan for the defeat of the Aralla came into being that day.

Alongside that battle plan was shaped another, smaller, but far more significant agreement. To provide a focus for their peoples to live under and fight for, rather than their fear of the Aralla, they established the first true alliance of the war. For the Aralla to be defeated, they reasoned, they needed to be strong and united. To be strong and united, they needed a focus.

The fleet would be that focus.

They addressed the questions that arose with admirable speed and foresight, tackling each obstacle head-on until they found a workable solution.

Picard knew that he had severely underestimated the people he led. They had come close to losing the war because of his lack of vision. Now, they had a chance.

But first they needed the Borg.

'The _Enterprise _will be the flagship,' said Jaled, pointing to the padd before him.

'What?' said Picard, startled from his reverie.

'The _Enterprise_ will be the flagship,' repeated the Romulan.

'Why?' asked Dukat, his tone curious.

'It is the only ship in the Fleet that can be,' said Jaled. Picard noticed the capital "F" that had crept into the word, and knew that that was part of the process they had suggested. 'We need a command ship. Admiral Picard is our commander, and none of us now have equal rank to him. Thus, the _Enterprise_ must be the flagship.'

Dukat nodded. 'I agree.'

'As do I,' said Martok.

'Same here,' said Kreal.

'Hang on a moment,' said Picard, feeling that the conversation had run away from him slightly. 'I thought we'd agreed to co-operate.'

'We have,' said Kreal. 'However, we also realise that the Fleet needs a single commander. It is the same as any large logistics operation that we have all undertaken in the past. We all have command of our individual ships and Battle Groups, but we all take orders from one vessel which commands the Fleet as a whole.'

Picard nodded, slightly amazed at the idea, and then realising it was what he had been angling for all the time and, indeed, was the main purpose in calling the meeting together. 'I hope that you don't expect the _Enterprise _to keep out of any fighting.'

'I would think a lot less of you if it did, Admiral,' said Dukat, smiling.

'I accept,' said Picard.

Without warning, the red alert siren blared and Hedly's voice came over the comm. 'This is a red alert! All hands to battle stations! Admiral Picard to the bridge!'

Picard vaulted from his seat, all plans forgotten, and dashed through the door, closely followed by the others.

As Picard emerged onto the bridge, Worf, who was stood with Hedly at tactical, turned to him with a worried expression. 'Sir, we've just received a message from the _Voyager _shuttle.'

Tom Paris watched his scanners warily. After four hours of dull travel at warp seven, he was now approaching his target, and all of his long-range sensors were probing space before him.

So far, his scanners had not located any sign of the mysterious object he was searching for, which was definitely worrying, as he knew that he should have been less than a hundred thousand kilometres from it's surface.

'Weird,' he muttered, his face perplexed.

'_Craft sighted in grid 114 of sub-section 84a. Orders requested.'_

'Craft identified. Starfleet customised shuttlecraft, registration NCC-74656-Delta Flyer_. Presence of captured Borg technology indicated on board. Capture and assimilation imperative.'_

'Increase speed to maximum. Ready drones to begin capture and assimilation.'

A low humming spread throughout the _Delta Flyer_, and a padd that rested on top of the main console began to rattle against the smooth surface. Paris' eyes began to take on a worried expression.

'Computer, scan for vessels!'

'There is a Borg Sphere at bearing 114 mark 521.'

'_Damn!_'

The comm crackled into life. '_We are the Borg. Power down your engines and weapon systems. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile. We are the Borg.'_

'Computer, launch distress beacon towards fleet and begin transmitting immediately!' said Paris, his arrogant and calm demeanour broken by the message which had come over the speakers.

He activated the warp engines, and swung the craft around. Directly before him loomed the smooth contours of the Borg sphere that threatened his existence. Dark and dull metal, glowing with the green power fields that characterised Borg technology, stretched up and around as far as his eyes could see.

Bringing the _Flyer _up to full throttle, he threw everything to the impulse drive, and swung the small craft under and around the Sphere. Then, hammering the warp drive, he vanished into a blaze of light.

The Sphere turned smoothly on its axis, and pursued his tiny ship with a deceptively casual pace.

'This is the _Delta Flyer_ to any ships from the Alpha Quadrant! I have encountered a Borg Sphere at heading 114 mark 521! They are pursuing me at warp six! I need assistance! To any ships from the Alpha Quadrant…'

'_Assimilation order rescinded. Track and follow Alpha Quadrant shuttle. It is heading toward its home craft, USS _Voyager_ NCC-74656. Unicomplex 001 has made capture and assimilation of this vessel a priority.'_

'The pilot has intercepted a Borg Sphere, sir,' said Worf, as Picard slipped into his seat. Martok, Jaled, Dukat and Kreal crowded the aft section of the bridge. 'They are proceeding to this destination at warp six, matching the shuttle's speed, but not exceeding it.'

'They're using him to track us,' said Picard angrily. 'But I can't order him to divert from his course. That would be immediate suicide.'

'I suggest we prepare the fleet for battle,' said Martok.

'I agree,' said Picard. 'You had better get to your ships, gentlemen. Orders will be forthcoming soon.'

The four leaders nodded, and exited the bridge quickly via the forward turbolift. 'Wait until they've beamed off the ship and then raise shields,' said Worf to Hedly. 'Then order a fleet-wide red alert.'

'Understood.'

'And then, order all ships to form attack pattern omega-1,' said Picard slowly. 'Prepare to fire on my command.'

'What about the shuttlecraft?'

'I do not intend to let either our first chance to contact the Borg go wrong or a Starfleet officer die if I can help it. We will attempt to make contact with the Borg ship as well as retrieve the shuttle. If the Borg ship proves difficult, we destroy it.' _At least_, Picard added silently in his own mind, _I hope I don't give the destroy order the second it comes out of warp. Restraining myself might be more difficult than restraining the Borg._

'Sir, the shuttle has launched a distress beacon with relay,' said Hedly suddenly. 'I can get visual.'

'On screen. Broadcast to all ships.'

The main screen flickered, and Janeway leapt from her seat at the view before her. The shuttle, a small dot in the far distance, its white hull showing starkly against the dull monochrome gleam of the Borg Sphere, headed towards the beacon.

Beside her, although she barely noticed, B'Elanna Torres' breath caught in her throat and an anguished growl crept unbidden into the air. 'Tom….'

'_Scanners have detected a fleet of ships at grid 115, sub-section 814. Orders.'_

'Ships identified as belonging to all various assimilated Alpha and Beta Quadrant races. Estimate number at 4582 ships. Lead ship identified as USS Enterprise_ NCC-1701-E, commanded by…'_

There was a pause whilst the main Unimatrix of the Borg vessel requested confirmation of the information it had received from the Collective.

'_The Unicomplex has detected the beacon of Locutus. Immediate priorities all rescinded. All resources devoted to reassimilating Locutus of Borg and returning him to Unicomplex 001.'_

'Orders regarding shuttle?'

'Terminate and accelerate to warp nine.'

Paris wiped the sweat of fear from his brow, and stared again at his console readings. The Borg Sphere following him had tracked his every move and matched his every speed change, but had made no attempt to lock on with a tractor beam or destroy his ship. He knew what they were doing. 'They're following me!'

'Borg vessel is accelerating to warp nine,' said the computer suddenly. 'They are powering up weapons.'

'Evasive –'

Janeway watched as the Borg sphere began to speed up, quickly passing the _Delta Flyer_. 'The Borg Sphere is powering up weapons systems,' said Tuvok calmly.

'Engines to full, ready weapons and lay in course to intercept that Sphere!' ordered Janeway.

'Captain, Admiral Picard's orders –' began Chakotay.

'I am the captain aboard this starship, Commander! _It can wait!' _ Janeway's voice, angry and concerned, cut across Chakotay's protest like a knife through butter.

'Course laid in at max –' began the helm officer, but then Kim shouted, 'Captain!'

On the screen, even as Janeway turned to look, the Borg sphere swept over the _Delta Flyer_, and, almost as an afterthought, a ball of green fire slammed into the shields of the little ship.

The _Flyer _jolted hard as the Borg weapon slammed into Paris' forward shields. He choked off a curse, and hammered in another evasive course, barely avoiding the next shot that skimmed his shields, prompting the computer to say calmly, 'Shields at ten percent.'

'Divert auxiliary power to shields!'

'Shields as thirty percent.'

Another beam of energy slammed into his aft shields. 'Shields at five percent.'

'Thank _you!' _shouted Paris angrily.

He glanced up whilst programming in another course change, and then realised that it was a wasted effort.

The Borg Sphere, one methodical blast after another emitting from it's gleaming surface, tracked the _Delta Flyer _until a blast finally connected.

As the horrified crew of the USS _Voyager _watched, the _Delta Flyer _exploded into a blaze of fire and plasma.

Silent, deadly, the Borg vessel continued on its way. Towards the fleet.

As Janeway turned away, she heard a sound from the far side of the bridge that she thought would never hear. It was B'Elanna Torres, sobbing softly into her hands.

As Janeway sat down, mind reeling, Picard's voice came over the comm. As the stunned crew listened, he said, 'All ships. The Borg are coming. Orders are being broadcast now. Follow them closely.'

'Is that all he can say?' growled Kim. Paris had been a close friend to him. 'Orders are being _broadcast_?'

'He is the commander of the fleet,' said Chakotay, his voice quiet. 'And he didn't know Tom like we did.'

'We will have a memorial service,' said Janeway, her voice bitter. 'And I will speak with Admiral Picard –'

'_Speak?'_ Torres' voice rang out across the bridge, bitter and devastated. '_Speak _with_ him?_ He sent Tom to _die _out there, all _alone! _And now you want to speak to _him?_ _I should tear out his heart with my bare hands!'_

'B'Elanna –' began Chakotay, but Torres snarled at him, and, throwing aside the crewman who stood in her way, she disappeared into the turbolift.

'Lock down the transporters,' said Janeway. 'I'll fetch her.'

Torres stormed down the corridors of the _Voyager_ blindly, her heart screaming.

She entered the transporter room and growled at the duty officer. 'Beam me to the _Enterprise_!'

'I'm afraid I can't do that, Lieutenant,' said the young man, turning to face her, his face scared, but doing his duty. 'Captain's orders.'

'_Damn you!'_ howled the engineer, and threw the officer aside. He clattered into the bulkhead, and lay there, unconscious. Unheeding, Torres quickly entered in her code and activated the transporter.

In response, the console bleeped at her, and the computer said, 'Override overridden, authority, Captain Janeway.'

'I've locked out all the transporters, B'Elanna,' said Janeway's voice behind the Klingon.

Torres spun around, crouching slightly like a cornered animal. 'Tom's _dead _because of him! _I have to get my revenge_!'

Janeway understood enough of Klingon culture to know that right was afforded to the partner of a Klingon to be avenged by killing the one who killed the partner. 'I can't let you do that, B'Elanna,' she said, keeping her voice calm.

The Klingon in B'Elanna was suddenly swept aside, in a torrent of emotions, by the human side of the young woman. 'You don't understand! I have to – to...'

'What?' asked Janeway, determined to get through.

B'Elanna crumpled, and fell to the floor, resting her head against the console. The silence that dominated for a moment was broken by the sound of her crying. Janeway stepped up and lifted her gently to a standing position. 'I'll take you to your quarters,' she murmured.

'ETA of Borg Sphere?' asked Picard.

'Thirty minutes, Admiral,' said Thames, her voice tense.

'When will our ships be in prime attack position?'

'Five minutes, Admiral,' said Worf.

Picard relaxed slightly, although his shoulders seemed too straight still. 'We have only to wait now,' he said.

'Sir,' said Hedly suddenly, 'Captain Janeway has just beamed aboard.'

A trace of pain flickered across Picard's face for a moment, and then he nodded. 'Have her come to my ready room.'

'Aye, sir.' The acknowledgement followed Picard across the bridge as he entered his ready room.

As Janeway was escorted up to the bridge of the _Enterprise_, she reflected silently on what she would say to Picard. Difficult to judge were her words, for she knew that she would be speaking to a man who led one of the greatest conglomerates of ships, people and power in history. And yet, she knew she also had to get through the human side of the conflict. People were fighting and dying out there, and he was indifferent.

It was at times like these that she wondered what had happened to the original command crew of the _Enterprise_.

The turbolift doors slid open, and Janeway stepped out onto the bridge. The Klingon, Worf, stood and nodded to her. 'Admiral Picard is expecting you in his ready room.'

Janeway nodded, and stepped towards the double doors, trepidation entering her stride.

She stepped over the threshold, and faced Picard.

Stood behind his desk, the stars behind him, his silhouette gave the impression that his body was not truly in the room. He was facing her, but she could not see the face of the Admiral, or the expression that face wore. For all Janeway knew, she might be standing before a total impostor. 'Admiral?'

'I was expecting you, Captain.' Picard's voice was unmistakable, but the tone was highly enigmatic. 'I would assume you have a complaint about the death of your crewman.'

Janeway narrowed her eyes. This man was too perceptive. 'Yes, sir. Tom Paris was an excellent officer –'

'Indeed?' Picard cut her off. A hand picked up a padd lying on a table before him. 'Joined Starfleet Academy, and received a number of reprimands and dressing downs from superior officers. Upon graduating, an event said to be tinged with luck, he was involved in an accident which caused the deaths of three fellow officers. At first denying responsibility, and then admitting guilt, he was given a dishonourable discharge from Starfleet. Later in his life, he joined the Maquis, but was captured on his first mission by a Starfleet vessel and sentenced to imprisonment at the New Zealand penal colony. He was released on conditional parole under the authority of Captain Kathryn Janeway.' Picard dropped the padd unceremoniously onto the desk and turned to face the stars. 'We have an ETA with the Borg in thirty minutes, Captain, and I do not propose to spend those minutes discussing why Tom Paris should be treated any differently to any other convicted felon.'

Janeway gritted her teeth. This was going to be harder than she thought. 'Ensign Paris was-'

Picard cut her off again. 'Ah, yes. _Ensign _Paris, demoted from Lieutenant and sentenced to thirty days solitary confinement for disobeying a direct order and breaking General Order Number One. Sounds like an excellent officer, Captain.' The last sentence was barely short of a sneer.

Janeway's temper broke. 'How dare you accuse a man of whom you nothing? And how do you dare to suggest that he ought not to be given the treatment that would be afforded for all Starfleet officers!'

Picard's shoulders straightened slightly, and Janeway could read the anger in his stance. 'I act as leader of the Fleet under my command. I cannot allow myself to become embroiled in individual matters –'

This time, Janeway cut him off. 'You've elevated yourself beyond your position, because you're too frightened too acknowledge the harm your decisions are doing to the people in this Fleet of yours. You are not fit to command.'

'I have been accused of that in the past,' said Picard, his brooding figure not moving. However, Janeway could hear that the calmness in his tone was forced. She decided to push.

'By whom?'

'That is not your concern.'

'Ah, but it is,' said Janeway, triumphant. 'By Starfleet Standing Order, if a command officer suspects another of dereliction of duty or of deviation from orders, he or she is open to investigation by –'

Picard turned to face her. 'I _am_ Starfleet.' His voice was quiet.

'But subject –'

Picard leant across the desk and she saw his face for the first time. '_I AM STARFLEET! I am subject to no-one!' _Picard's sudden fury made Janeway take a step back. 'I am Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire, Acting Chancellor of the Klingon Empire and Grand Admiral of Starfleet, and thus default President of Earth! _I rule here!'_

Janeway stared in horror at the man before her, who stood, fury and hatred written across his face, panting from the exertions to which he had just been subjected. 'You are not Jean-Luc Picard,' she whispered.

'You're right. The Aralla have changed me.' His voice started low and quiet. 'From beyond the dimensional portal they came, bringing death and terror for all before them. Even the Borg pale into insignificance before them. They destroyed Romulus, they destroyed Qo'nos. I saw them tear the warrior spirit of the Klingon race from them, and they are a proud people. They took the Cardassians, Jem'Hadar and Ferengi to pieces, and all I could do was _watch._ I was given more and more power, promoted to the top of Starfleet and I could still only wait and watch as they swept across the Alpha Quadrant and Beta Quadrant. Normal tactics couldn't work against them. We could only fall back, because they couldn't be touched by our weapons.' He turned, and stalked slowly back and forth, his shoulders tense, his face drawn.

'They came to Earth, and there, they began their chosen task of changing Jean-Luc Picard. There, they took part of my soul. They destroyed Earth, and killed more than ten billion people. But, more than that, they killed one of my crew, a close friend, Deanna Troi. And I simply made her a _statistic_, just one more number to be tallied onto billions of others. People who died because of me. And, at every battle along the way, they tore me apart, further and further. My friends fell beside me, and I still could do _nothing _to save or avenge them! You cannot tell me that I do not understand your grief, or your pain, or your loss! _I have lost more than you could believe_.' Picard had not shouted or yelled, but had merely growled a low, hoarse monotone, which, in a strange way, had been more terrifying than any outburst of fury or anger could be.

The captain of _Voyager _listened to the outpouring of grief, anger, and bitter self-recrimination from Picard, stunned that anyone could live with such a burden for so long. At last, slowly, she began to realise that Admiral Picard had been broken and remoulded into a new person. In many ways, and it was something Picard had learnt to live with over the last few years, she knew that he had died at Earth, along with all those billions who died under the Aralla onslaught. She was dealing with another person to the man whom she had made into a role model for her captaincy. She had better learn to deal with the man before her. 'Why – Why have you told me this?' The sound of her own voice surprised her with its strength after Picard's tirade.

'Because you must learn to accept this. I cannot have an officer in my Fleet questioning my judgement because of their misinterpretation of my character,' replied Picard, his voice now calm, but his face still terrible. 'I am no longer Captain Picard; I am Grand Admiral Picard, ruler of the Federation, the Klingon Empire, the Romulan Star Empire, and solely responsible for every life in this Fleet. I am the ultimate personification of everything that Starfleet feared; a dictator being in control of the Federation. It is a burden that I have borne for a very long time, and it is one that those around me need to recall when they deal with me.'

Picard spoke these words with no pomposity or deliberately weighted authority, but with an air of resigned sadness. Janeway knew that he was desperately unhappy with his job and his burden, but also that he felt he could not share it with anyone, because it was his fault, and his alone, that the Aralla had forced them all into this situation.

Guilt is a terrible disease, and far worse is the guilt that one puts on oneself. And when that guilt is undeserved, it destroys all that is good in a man. Picard had done that to himself. He knew that.

Janeway's heart went out to the dead man before her, sat behind his desk, protected by his shields, and his armour, and his friends – so well protected, in fact, that he now was the only one able to see his own weaknesses, and certainly the only one who would ever be able to deal with them.

Far from anger, and hatred, and sadness at Tom Paris' death, she wept inwardly for the death of the Federation. Under this man's leadership, the Federation would surely die, and it would not be the quick, clean death that the Aralla might mete out, but the slow death of a stagnating society, one which had turned on itself. And Jean-Luc Picard, the most respected officer in Starfleet, would be the architect of that death, as long as he led the Fleet.

She could only hope that the society that the Federation gave way to would be better than humanity's last failed experiment.

Was there really no hope for the galaxy?

The huge Aralla ships filled the sky for as far as Data could see. He cast another worried glance at Odo. A huge circle of black ships encompassed the _Missouri_, closing in slowly like a hangman's noose. 'I suspect that they won't fire,' said Data.

Odo glanced at him. 'Whyever not?'

'We don't know how those weapons will affect the Aralla shields, but I bet _they_ do. At this range, there is a very low chance of hitting us, and they are extremely likely to hit each other if they do open fire. I suspect they will send out the attack planes.'

There was a bleep, and Odo looked at the screen, which displayed a dire warning. 'You're right. They've just launched. Intercept seven minutes.'

'Numbers?'

Odo had a slight grin on his face, one which held no humour whatsoever. He turned to look at the distant city destroyers. 'Nine thousand.'

Data's face fell. 'Not taking any chances are they?'

'No.' Their voices were unnaturally calm, totally overwhelmed as they were by the sheer numbers being deployed against them.

'They didn't use that many fighters at either Earth or Bajor,' said Data, his voice disgusted.

Odo didn't answer, but pointed to a distant ball of light off their port. 'What's that?'

Data craned to see. 'I don't know,' he said.

__

'Transwarp drive prepared for deactivation.'

'Deactivate.'

'Deactivated. Speed now at warp seven.'

Data looked at the scanners. 'It looks like a transwarp drive being deactivated. I'm reading a large object dropping into normal warp space, warp seven. I can't get a sensor fix on it.'

'Why not?' said Odo.

'It appears to be sensor-stealthed. But not cloaked.'

'Who has that sort of technology?'

'Everybody, except the Aralla. But it's useless no, because when you close on the object, it becomes easier to see. And a transwarp signature is a dead give-away to a ship's presence.'

'But who in the galaxy uses transwarp technology?'

Then, both Odo and Data looked at each other, horrified.

'_Scanners report five _Colossus_-class ships, with twenty detached _Cyclops-_class city destroyers and nine thousand _Swarm_-class fighters. Orders?'_

'The Aralla have come at last. The Collective is weakened after the defeat of Species 8472, and cannot defeat the Aralla so soon afterwards. Continue scanning until detected.'

'Assimilation?'

'The Aralla are invulnerable to assimilation.'

'Scanners report a Starfleet runabout, USS Missouri, _attached to space station _Deep Space Nine_. It will shortly come under attack by Aralla fighters. Chances of survival: nil.'_

A new voice joined the controlled cacophony. _'Unicomplex 001 reports encounter with combined fleet under command of Locutus of Borg in Grid 115, 814. Resistance to assimilation expected.' _The last statement was interrupted.

'_We have detected beacon of Unit A-1 onboard the runabout, accompanied by a single member of Species 5477.'_

'A-1 will be a crucial factor in the reassimilation of Locutus. Orders: defend A-1 against attack by Aralla fighters. Ensure that they escape from their ambush.'

The Aralla ships came into range and opened fire on the runabout. Data had already swung the _Missouri_ around, and begun to head for the strange transwarp signal.

A salvo crashed into the shields, and the computer said, 'Shields down ten percent.'

'Where the hell are you going?' shouted Odo, as he clung to a console.

'If that's a Borg ship, it might distract the Aralla long enough for us to escape!' said Data, his attention not leaving the screen.

'And if they decide that we're a threat and destroy us?'

'We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it!' Data swung the runabout to port, and the starboard, and then back onto course, avoiding the Aralla fire.

'That's if the Aralla don't blow it up first,' said Odo, as he turned back to watch the scanners. He noted something. 'The unidentified ship has speeded up to warp nine, on a direct heading for us.'

'ETA?'

'Now.'

The huge Borg Cube rocketed towards them and shot overhead, passing by in less than a second. As it did so, green blasts of energy shot towards the Aralla vessels, slamming into the shields. The fighters swarmed towards it, opening fire as they did so.

The beams of blue energy bit into the Borg ship, tearing out large chunks of hull, disproportionate to the power of the blasts.

Data watched as the fighters broke off to attack the Borg ship. 'Looks like my idea worked.'

The Borg ship fired wildly into the pack of fighters, but failed to destroy any of them. The city destroyers closed in. Beam after beam of energy slammed into the Cube, rupturing power conduits, and destroying huge chunks of the black hull.

Explosion after explosion tore apart the Cube, as the Aralla overwhelmed it quickly. Finally, it vanished in an expanding ball of fire. The Aralla ships swarmed around it, still firing into the debris.

Data watched for a moment, and then glanced at Odo. 'Let's get out of here before they notice us again.'

The Changeling nodded. 'I'll go aft and check out our systems there.' He got up and headed for the back of the ship.

Data turned to the console, and set a new course. The runabout came up and out of it's dive – and straight into a stray beam of Aralla fire.

Inside, Data ducked as the console exploded in his face, and sparks and flames flew everywhere before the fire suppression system activated and doused them. After a moment, he got into his seat. Fortunately, although his console was destroyed, Odo's was undamaged. Propulsion was unaffected, although the starboard nacelle had received some minor buckling, and the hull was badly seared but uncompromised. Weapons, shields and life support were all down, but neither he nor Odo really needed the life support. The weapons would be back on-line after he did some minor repairs, but the shields would need much more work.

All in all, he mused, they had been lucky. 'Odo?'

'Odo?'

There was silence from the stern, and Data vaulted from his seat, ignoring the runabout's course.

Aft, he found that they had not been so lucky. Odo sprawled beside a console, his body dissolving into the gel that was the changelings' natural state. 'Odo!'

The shapeshifter looked up at Data, his face calm. 'I was touching a console. It exploded in my face,' he said, his voice strained with the immense pain.

'I haven't got anything onboard to treat you with,' said Data, his voice agonised. Odo nodded slowly.

'I know. Nobody could do anything, except Dr. Bashir, perhaps. And we're a long way from the fleet.' Odo's body was closer to full dissolution. He struggled slightly upright and whispered, 'Get to them and tell them what we know.' His voice trailed away, and he slumped back. 'I can't hold on....' He turned pain-filled eyes one last time, on Data. 'Tell Major Kira –' He stiffened, and then, just before the dissolution covered him totally, he said, 'I love her.'

Odo's body turned instantly into gel, and then into black ashes, spilled across the deck. Data bowed his head and turned away, surrendering to the inevitable, but fighting back anger and despair.

The _Missouri_, blackened, scarred, but unbowed, vanished into the dark as, behind it, the Aralla claimed victory over another race.

The Aralla commander had been horrified by the presence of the Borg Cube. It had been long since the Great War against the Borg, but Aralla memories were long.

He recalled the devastation that the Borg had wrought upon the Three Races. Of them, only the Aralla had been capable of resisting the strange weapons that the Borg used to enslave the peoples of the Triumvirate.

Bloody fighting over years throughout the galaxy had resulted in the Cubes and Spheres being driven away by the Aralla, but the Triumvirate had been shattered irrevocably. The Aralla had been forced into their nomadic existence, and had lost the only alliance that they had ever been part of.

They had run into the humans because of the Borg.

Yes, the Unicomplex had a lot to answer for. The Aralla were suddenly in a supreme position to wipe out the two greatest threats to their existence.

Humanity and the Borg would die.

The commander suddenly glanced at the scanner reports on the wreckage of the Cube, and tapped his finger to display more on the screen.

There was a device that the Aralla had not seen before in the wreckage the Borg ship, and it was attached to the engines. It was a device of immense power, diverted solely to feed the engines. It would be most useful....


	15. Into The Teeth Of The Enemy

__

Chapter XV

B'Elanna Torres threw her uniform jacket onto the chair in her quarters and slumped into a seat, too shattered to even order the lights on. For a moment, she sat in the darkness, a tear trickling down her face, unnoticed, until she became aware of a soft bleeping sound.

For another moment, she ignored it, but then, angered, she jumped to her feet and moved to the comm unit. If it was Joe Carey requesting an engineering schematic or something, he would get a real fright.

However, as she drew closer, she could see that it was a deposited message, pre-recorded at some time earlier. Curiosity overcoming grief for a moment, she said, 'Computer, display message.'

What she saw next froze her heart. Tom Paris' face appeared on the screen. 'B'Elanna, if you're watching this, I'm dead,' his voice began abruptly. Even on a recorded message, his voice still shot through her spine like freezing liquid nitrogen. The image smiled, and B'Elanna realised that he was sat in the cockpit of the _Delta Flyer_. The message was dated just after they had started their relationship. 'I'm not a cautious guy normally, but because I love you, more than anything or anyone, I've decided to record this message. I'm gonna broadcast it every time I leave on a mission without you.' B'Elanna slumped to her knees before the screen, her heart broken, her face distraught, her eyes streaming with tears. Her hand came to rest on the screen, touching Paris' image.

'If I've died on an away mission, then don't blame anybody who ordered me out on the mission. Not Janeway, or Chakotay, or Tuvok. No-one. I've decided to take the mission, for good or for bad, and it's my responsibility alone. There's probably some Klingon proverb about how blaming someone for someone else's decision takes away their honour, but all I know is that I'm the one who has to deal with the responsibility for my decisions, and that means it's my responsibility in the final reckoning. All I want is for you to live your life out and get home, and tell my dad about me, and about us. If you want, find another person, but don't live in the past. Forget me if I cause you too much pain, but don't let me hold you back. I'll understand.'

The face glanced down. 'Oops, better be getting back to duty.' Paris looked at the screen again, his eyes seemingly looking through Torres' fingers. 'B'Elanna, you are the most precious thing in the universe, and I won't rest easy if you forget that. I'm no longer important. You are.' The face leaned closer and he whispered the first words of Klingon that B'Elanna had ever heard him use at any time, words he had learned especially for her. '_Qapla, par'machai.' _Success, my love.

The screen blanked out, leaving Torres all alone again in the darkness, knelt with her hand pressed against the screen. After a while, the silence was broken by the sound of sobbing.

Captain Janeway looked extremely thoughtful on her return from the _Enterprise_, thought Chakotay. She had merely ordered them to hold position and then retired to her ready room. There were still ten minutes before the Borg were due to arrive.

B'Elanna had not yet returned to duty, but Chakotay was unsurprised by that. He and the bridge crew were still shocked by Tom's sudden death, but it would hit B'Elanna far harder.

Kim stared listlessly at his console for long minutes, before recovering himself. Tuvok had taken five minutes to disappear to his quarters for mediation on Paris' death, and Chakotay himself had offered a silent prayer to his spirit guide to help Tom's soul. And help all of their souls if this plan went wrong.

Even Seven of Nine appeared perturbed by the horror of the last few hours. However, that might be something to do with the approach of a Borg vessel. The former drone had expressed her distaste for a return to the Collective many times in the past.

However, maybe she was just feeling upset at the death of a fellow human being. There's a first time for everything....

Seven had not been able to categorise the feelings she had experienced at the events just past. Although over the last three years, she had experienced many new sensations, she had never before been subjected to such an emotional assault.

Obviously, there had been the discovery of the Fleet they had subsequently joined, and the possibility of going to Earth had raised trepidation and nervousness, a sensation that the EMH had labelled once as "butterflies", although what small airborne insects had to do with anything was anyone's guess.

Then, the relief that she was embarrassed to confess came when she realised that the Fleet had not come to retrieve _Voyager_, but was fleeing from a threat to the Alpha Quadrant.

And then, Janeway had shown them those pictures.

The utter, leaden, spine-chilling horror that freezes the blood, and stops the heart from beating for a moment had been spoken about by the Doctor many times, but Seven had not experienced it before, not even when facing Species 8472 or the Borg Queen.

But the Aralla.... They were one of the greatest threats in history. All Borg vessels were ordered to avoid them at any cost, and to signal their presence to the Unicomplex immediately. They were far more dangerous than Species 8472, and it was Seven's responsibility to bear that knowledge. However, she had already come to a decision about that.

What was more troubling were her feelings concerning Tom Paris – or rather, B'Elanna Torres. When the Sphere had destroyed Tom's shuttle, she had felt a – Well, as she had previously noted, she was unable to categorise it. But it felt suspiciously like pleasure, and she knew that it was wrong to feel pleasure at the death of any other creature. Janeway had impressed that onto her very early in their voyage.

But stranger still were her feelings when Torres had fled the bridge. She had forced herself to remain calm while her feelings shouted at her to run and comfort her fellow officer.

And that was most strange. As far as she knew, Torres could not stand her. So, why would Seven want to go to her aid? Indeed, why would her body disobey her mind, and force her to clutch the console tightly to prevent her from running after the distraught engineer?

'I have a problem,' whispered Seven of Nine.

'Thirty seconds to intercept!' Hedly's warning was the signal for a quiet, organised pandemonium to sweep across the bridge. Immediately she spoke, the red alert siren blared, the emergency lights came on and people began hurrying to their positions. 'Admiral –'

'I'm here,' said Picard's voice, cutting the tactical officer off in mid-sentence. 'All ships to battle stations and weapons on full. Shields up. And get me Captain Sisko.'

A moment later, Sisko's face appeared on the main screen. 'Admiral?'

'Ben, take all of the small attack vessels to flank positions and prepare for attack runs at the Sphere.'

'Understood. _Defiant_ out –'

'Hang on a moment, Ben,' said Picard sharply. 'I also need you to do something for me. If the _Enterprise _is destroyed or I'm captured or killed, I want you to take command of the Fleet.'

'Sir –'

'Do it! You're the only one who can.'

Sisko nodded reluctantly. 'Understood. _Defiant_ out.'

The screen blanked out, and Hedly said, 'Fifteen seconds.'

Picard looked at Truper. 'Take the _Enterprise_ forward of the Fleet, but order all ships to hold their positions.'

'Aye, sir,' replied the young man, his voice calm.

There was a pause, and then Hedly said, 'Borg Sphere off starboard bow!'

Picard tensed up and said, 'On screen.'

The huge expanse of the Sphere loomed suddenly out of warp speed, as the Borg vessel slowed and halted before the _Enterprise_. Picard swallowed his fear and glanced at Hedly. 'Fleet status?'

'All ships holding position, no weapons fired,' replied the young woman, reading her commander's mind.

Picard and Worf both stood, and Worf nodded to Picard. 'Good luck, sir.'

Picard smiled and said, 'Thank you.'

'Admiral, I'm getting a transmission over the subspace channel specifically for you,' said Hedly disbelievingly.

'Where from?'

Hedly looked up at the screen. 'From the Sphere.'

Picard frowned. 'On screen. Fleet-wide band.'

He turned back, as the Borg Sphere was replaced by the typical view of the interior of any Borg ship. A white glow, filling the background of the huge expanse of metal and darkness. A voice made up of thousands spoke. '_We are the Borg. We will escort you to Unicomplex 001 immediately. You will not be harmed.'_

Picard blinked, stunned beyond belief, all of his carefully crafted speeches, arguments and counter-arguments dissolving into nothing. Never had he expected the Borg to be anywhere near this helpful. He could only look at Worf, who bore a similarly stunned face. Picard turned his attention to the glow, sensing that the Borg expected a reply. 'Why?'

'_All questions will be answered at the Unicomplex. Set course 557 mark 254 and engage at warp nine.'_

The screen blanked out, replaced by the view of the Sphere. The enormous vessel backed away slightly, and turning on its axis, paused.

Picard stared at the Sphere for a moment, and then relaxed. 'We appear to be in luck. Get me Admiral Jaled, General Martok and Captains Sisko and Janeway on screen.'

'Aye, sir,' said Hedly, looking down at the console.

A few moments later, a rather surprised quartet looked down at Picard on the main screen. Picard looked at Jaled and Martok first. 'Opinions?'

'It is a trap,' said Martok. 'The Borg will lure us into the centre of their Collective and strike. I suggest that we send this ship away.'

'I thought you supported the idea of going to the Unicomplex,' said Picard calmly.

'Yes, but if the Borg wish to be co-operative, then it means that they have something up their collective sleeve,' said Sisko.

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'Admiral Jaled?'

'Go with the Sphere, but only take a few ships to the Unicomplex itself. I do not trust the Borg, but I also know that we need the support of the Borg to defeat the Aralla.'

Picard glanced at Janeway. 'Captain, you have dealt with the Borg on a one-to-one basis in the past. Can you see any reason for the Borg to act this way?'

'No, sir,' said Janeway, her tone worried. 'The Borg have always attempted to twist, divert and break deals in the past. I see no reason for them to do otherwise now. However, I support Admiral Jaled's view. We cannot risk exposing the Fleet to the full firepower of the Borg. They have hundreds of ships clustered around their Unicomplex, and going into the midst of that unprepared would be suicide.'

'Agreed,' said Picard. 'However, I think that the entire Fleet needs to see what we are dealing with here.' Picard mused for a moment, and then said, 'I think that you and Admiral Jaled are correct, Captain Janeway. We will leave the main Fleet at a distance of one light-year from the Unicomplex and the _Enterprise_ will go in alone.'

'Sir, if we lose you or the _Enterprise _–' began Jaled, his voice worried, but Picard cut him off.

'If that happens, Captain Sisko will take command of the Fleet. I expect you to follow his orders as you would mine.'

Martok immediately nodded in agreement, followed, reluctantly by Jaled. Picard smiled slightly and then turned to Janeway. 'Captain, will you ask the... Borg onboard _Voyager_ to come and speak with me on the _Enterprise_?'

Janeway inclined her head slightly. 'Yes, sir. I'll make sure that she comes aboard before we make the jump to warp speed.'

'Thank you. _Enterprise_ out.' Picard turned away and sat again, knowing that he was nowhere near as confident as he appeared to the others about either the Borg co-operation or about having the... former drone anywhere near him. However, needs must when the devil drives, he mused. And the devil, in the shape of the Aralla, was certainly driving him towards a decision that would change the balance of power in the galaxy, whether or not the Aralla were defeated.

'Ensign Truper, set course to follow the Sphere and engage at warp nine.'

'Aye, sir,' said Truper, his voice quavering slightly.

'Sir,' said Thames, 'the transporter room reports that Seven of Nine has beamed aboard.'

'Excellent,' said Picard, despite the trepidation he felt. He knew that Seven would give him a valuable insight into the Borg mind, one he would not have. 'Engage warp engines.'

The _Enterprise_ slotted quickly in behind the Sphere, which gathered pace and jumped to warp speed. In a blaze of warp trails, the Fleet followed behind.

'Send the drone to my ready room,' said Picard, standing and glancing at Worf. 'You have the bridge.' Try as he might, he could not bring himself to call the Borg by a name or even the designation it had kept.

'Aye, sir,' said Worf, but Picard had left the bridge, in a world of his own.

Seven was extremely worried. _Voyager _was the only ship she had ever known, other than those of the Borg, and she had never encountered other human beings other to the ones she had known aboard _Voyager_. In short, she was lost and alone in hostile territory.

Janeway had said that she was to beam over to the _Enterprise_ to speak with Admiral Picard but the name had not struck a chord, other than that he was the leader of the Fleet. And the man who had ordered Tom Paris to his death.

Seven had not quite decided what was up with her metabolism, but it sounded to her as quite a serious problem. Her heartbeat had speeded up, her palms were hot and itchy, and she found herself staring blankly into space at inefficient moments. She would have to see the Doctor.

But now, she was on the _Enterprise_, in one of the turbolifts leading to the bridge, and trying to look at her most composed and self-assured.

The doors slid open and she stepped out. For a brief second, she panicked slightly as the activity on the bridge stopped for a moment. What had she done wrong?

The helmsman stared for a brief moment at her, open-mouthed, before he shook himself and turned back to his work. The young woman at Ops glanced at her and sniffed before looking pointedly at her console again. Some of the male officers began to whisper at the back, but she could not hear what they were saying.

The Klingon sat in the captain's chair stood and glanced once around the bridge, restoring order, before he held out a hand towards a door to her right, and said, in a deep voice, 'Admiral Picard is expecting you.'

Seven nodded and swallowed, nervous. She turned and pressed the "knocker" button on the door, and heard a voice say, 'Enter.'

She went in.

And stopped dead, letting the door shut behind her.

Now she knew who Picard was.

'_Locutus_.'

Picard nodded at her. 'So, even a drone on the other side of the galaxy knows what I was made into.'

Seven now realised that she had taken a step backwards, her heart racing, and fear written on her face. Forcing the fear down, she straightened and faced Picard, towering over him. 'All of the Borg know you, Admiral. There is a standing command to all drones to assimilate Locutus at any cost at the earliest opportunity. Much knowledge was lost when you were freed from the Collective.'

Picard analysed the statuesque figure before him, surprised by her reaction, and also at her quick recovery. He also noted her use of the word "freed", rather than "separated" as Hugh had used when he had first met Picard. 'Good. That's the way it should be.'

He was also surprised, very much, by her appearance. He had expected that she would be a mutilated and scarred figure, beaten by her years of imprisonment in the Collective, but what he had to deal with was a beautiful and obviously well-composed and assured person, rather than a mere ex-drone. He would have to re-evaluate his impression of Seven of Nine considerably. He even referred to her as a person in his own mind!

Seven, on her part, was unaware of the positive impression that she was making on Picard, but could not stop staring at him. He terrified her, and she was ashamed of that. Locutus was a revered figure among the Borg – as far as any figure could be revered – as one of the most powerful personalities ever assimilated and also the chief figure in one of the worst defeats ever suffered by the Borg. 'Why have you summoned me?'

Picard raised an eyebrow as he sat down. 'I would have thought that you would have realised.'

'The unusual Borg co-operation,' said Seven immediately. Picard merely nodded. Seven took a breath. 'The Borg are terrified.'

Picard raised an eyebrow again, surprised. 'Terrified? Not by us?'

'No,' said Seven. 'By the Aralla.'

'The Aralla?'

'Four thousand years ago,' Seven began, 'the Borg were experimenting with cross-dimensional travel. Four hundred Cubes and nearly seven hundred thousand drones were employed in the quest for dimensional travel.'

'I was not aware of any of this as Locutus.'

'Locutus was not to be permitted full access to the Borg archive computers until the Earth had been assimilated.'

Picard nodded. 'Carry on.'

'Finally, enough power was focussed by the Collective to break through. It was very primitive, and the Borg had no way of knowing where they would break through to. Now, they are capable of choosing any reality and any time with ease.' Seven sat down, and looked across at Picard. 'The Collective sent out an expedition force into the new dimension, with orders to capture and assimilate all races there and create a new branch of the Collective there.'

'My god,' breathed Picard. For a moment, his mind was filled with visions of hundreds of universes populated by the Borg. 'Did they succeed?'

'Very nearly,' said Seven. 'The advance force of eight Cubes encountered a galaxy at peace. Three allied races ruled this galaxy, calling themselves the Three Races, or the Triumvirate. They were the Cralzon, Species 445 as they were called by the Borg, the Boral, Species 446, and the Aralla.'

'The Aralla were part of an alliance?' gasped Picard. 'I thought that they thought of all other races as vermin or lower life.'

'I _will_ explain everything,' said Seven calmly, and Picard smiled slightly.

'Understood.'

Seven continued, 'Of the Three Races, the Cralzon were the strongest, and the Aralla the weakest. Between the three, they ruled almost four hundred races. In the first battles against the Cralzon, whose worlds the Cubes emerged amongst, the Borg were totally triumphant. The Cralzon were not capable of standing up against the Cubes, despite their massive superiority in numbers and firepower. The Collective assimilated millions of Cralzon in less than a year.'

Seven stood and began to pace, the words coming out in a flow, her litany of the destruction of a civilisation stunning Picard into silence. 'By the time the Collective attacked the Boral, they had devastated most of the Cralzon Empire, which was the most powerful part of that galaxy. When the Boral were first attacked, they had had time to prepare, and tried to hold off the Borg until help could arrive. The Aralla, however, could not reach them in time. The Boral were totally assimilated into the Collective.'

Picard took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind, which was reeling from the impact of so many twists and turns. Now, he had a partial reason for the Aralla invasion. 'I have spoken with a member of the Aralla. It did not say that they had come for vengeance.'

'No, sir, it would not,' said Seven immediately. 'The Borg were extremely efficient at concealing their origin. It was believed by the Boral that the Borg were from the Cralzon Empire, and that they had rebelled against the Three Races. Whenever the Borg attacked, they were ordered to stop their rebellion. By the time the Collective attacked the Aralla, it was forgotten where the Borg had first attacked. It took the Collective thirty years to subdue the Boral.'

'Thirty years? How could the Aralla not get aid to them in time?'

'None of the Triumvirate had any form of warp drive. Your engineering records from the first Aralla attacks on Romulus show that no Aralla ship had warp capability before the battle of Romulus. Thus, none of the Three Races could launch any sort of counter-attack, and the Borg were able to attack when and where at any time.'

Picard nodded, recalling his own surprise at the speed of the Aralla advance without warp drive. 'Carry on.'

'The Boral fell in time, and the Borg controlled more than half the galaxy. Although the Aralla were weaker than either the Cralzon or the Boral, they controlled a full half of the galaxy, and that allowed them their power in the Three Races. However, they had an advantage that the Boral and the Cralzon did not have. They are immune to assimilation.'

Picard stared for a moment before he found his voice. 'Immune? How?'

'No Borg knows. For the Collective to gather information –'

'It needs to assimilate a race or person that has that information,' finished Picard. A chill passed through him. He had just had a diabolical idea.

'Exactly.' Seven was now feeling far more comfortable in Picard's presence, not noticing the expression of horror which crossed his face. 'And because they could not assimilate the Aralla, they could not understand. And, because they could not be assimilated, the Aralla are also invulnerable to Borg weapons. They pushed the Collective back all the way to the centre of the Cralzon Empire. They used the same tactics each time. They would send a small group of fighters in, scout out the Borg planet, determine the local Unimatrix, and use what you call city destroyers to destroy it, thereby knocking out the local Collective, and destroying all the Borg ships in the vicinity. Their current technology was devised with that aim in mind. The Collective was swept back over a long period of time.'

Picard watched Seven, amazed at the calmness with which she told the story. 'Did they destroy all of the Borg on their side of the gateway?'

'No. The Collective ordered that the galaxy should be abandoned and the Aralla left behind lest they get through the gateway and attack our universe. All Borg retreated and the gateway was shut permanently. As far as the Borg knew, the Aralla never found out where they had come from. Obviously, the Collective was incorrect. The Aralla have returned to destroy them. But they will take the rest of the galaxy with them.'

'No,' said Picard thoughtfully. 'That is not right at all. When we first encountered the Aralla, they displayed anger and hatred specifically towards humanity. Not everybody onboard the _Enterprise_ is human, but the emotions that Deanna Troi, my ship's counsellor, picked up, hatred and anger, were specifically aimed at humans aboard the _Enterprise_.' He pursed his lips, thinking. 'We're on the verge of discovering why the Aralla invaded this universe. I need something more, though.'

He seemed to recall Seven of Nine, and he smiled at her. 'Seven, you have been an excellent help to me. If you would not mind, I would like Captain Janeway to assign you as my aide aboard the _Enterprise_.'

Seven nodded slightly, pushing down her worries. 'I would like that, Admiral, thank you.'

'Dismissed.'

Seven stood gracefully and left the ready room. As soon as she entered the turbolift, she staggered against the wall, her legs suddenly giving way. She had been absolutely terrified, but she was about to be reassigned to a new ship, to work directly with Locutus. And if the Borg knew that he was here, she would have to protect him against them, because they would attack him as soon as they were given an opportunity.

However, she would not be able to return to _Voyager _until the _Enterprise _and _Voyager _both dropped out of warp. She had better find something to do.

The voyage continued slowly. On the USS _Defiant_, Sisko sat in the centre chair, watching the huge Sphere in the distance. In his mind, he could see the battle of Wolf 359, Starfleet's greatest defeat, replayed over and over again. He remembered his futile attempt to save his wife's life on the USS _Saratoga_, just before the ship was destroyed. He knew that almost all of the fleet would have these feelings towards the Borg, and that they would be uneasy about having their oldest enemy as an ally. The casual killing of one of their colleagues would only reinforce their impressions of the Borg. He himself, despite having suggested the original plan to Picard on _DS9_ – so long ago – he felt even more ambivalent, and convinced every second that the Borg were planning a trap.

On the USS _Voyager_, Captain Janeway also stared at the screen from her main seat. She, unlike most of the other Starfleet officers in the fleet, had not been involved in the battle of Wolf 359, but had been on a special mission at the time of the invasion. The ship she had been on had headed to Earth only in time to be able to help with the salvage and recovery effort on the devastated armada at Wolf 359. She had been repelled by the destruction visited on the fleet by the huge Borg Cube.

On the USS _Enterprise_, Picard gazed out of the window in his ready room, facing towards the Borg Sphere. He, of all, had been captured by the Borg, and assimilated. He had been turned into a Borg, and despite the revenge that he had gained the year before, he still harboured a terrible hatred for the mindless, soulless Collective. He understood them like no other. He alone, with his vast experience and knowledge, had been transformed into the voice of the Borg, Locutus. The Borg still recognised him as that persona, and this counted for _so_ much.

He needed the Borg to defeat the Aralla, the two greatest enemies of the Federation in history. Perhaps they would destroy each other. His new knowledge from Seven of Nine suggested that this might be likely. It might be that humanity would be caught in the crossfire.

Suddenly, the comm bleeped at the same moment that he realised that the stars had become solid, no longer trails across the darkness. 'Bridge to Admiral Picard,' said Thames' voice.

Picard said, 'Picard here,' realising that recent events had pushed his thoughts of Lieutenant Commander Thames quite out of his mind. Maybe it was for the best. He had cooked up a plan which precluded any feelings for others, convincing himself it was the best for all in the Fleet.

'Sir, the Borg Sphere has dropped to a full stop and is requesting communication.'

'With myself again?'

'No, sir. Just a general communication.'

'Keep them waiting. I'm on my way.' Picard stood and left the room.

As he stepped up to his command chair, Picard suddenly felt Thames' gaze upon him for a moment, burning into the side of his head. It was all he could do not to turn and look back at her. After a moment, as he turned, he felt the gaze leave him, and Worf said quietly, 'The Sphere has dropped to warp three. We have matched its speed.'

Picard pressed a button. 'Seven of Nine to the bridge.'

'Are you sure that's wise, sir, this close to a Borg ship?' said Worf, surprised.

Picard turned a cool gaze upon his first officer, and said, 'She is the only expert on the Borg we have, Commander. I believe that she will be extremely valuable to us as an advisor.'

Worf nodded. 'It's not that, sir. When she last came in, her appearance had an... effect on the crew. It certainly stopped normal operations for at least five seconds all across the bridge.'

Picard grinned, genuinely amused. 'I'm not surprised, Mr. Worf. However, she is an individual, and we must respect that. And people can't exactly help how they look.' Noting Worf's sceptical gaze, Picard chuckled. 'This crew is very professional. I am backing them to overcome all... obstacles.'

Worf nodded, smiling also. 'Understood.'

At that moment, Seven entered the bridge.

Thames glanced across as the turbolift opened and admitted Seven of Nine. Her gaze cooled considerably as the slender woman stepped up to Picard's side, and said, 'Reporting as ordered, sir.'

Picard's gaze lingered on her for a second too long, thought Thames, before he said, 'Sit down, Seven. I need your advice.'

__

How the hell dare she dress like that on duty? thought Thames angrily. _Especially in front of the Admiral._

Seven hesitated a moment. She was not yet used to this crew or this man, and she didn't know if she should take the seat next to Picard. Certainly Janeway had never used her as an advisor before. _I will adapt,_ she thought, and sat down quickly.

Her view across the bridge was excellent, and she caught the head of the young woman seated at Ops turning quickly away. But what captivated her attention was the Borg Sphere that they trailed, centred on the screen, revolving slowly.

Picard's voice startled her. 'Put the Borg communication on Fleet-wide, Commander Hedly.'

'Done, sir.'

'On screen.'

The white glow at the centre of the Sphere appeared on the screen. '_We are the Borg_.'

'I think we already know that,' remarked Hedly quietly. Picard smiled slightly, covering his worry. Seven held herself tense, feeling as though every Borg drone on that ship were staring at her.

'_We are approaching Unicomplex 001. Only one ship will be allowed past this point. All others will remain at one light-year distant. Any closer, and you will be destroyed.'_

'We will not be dictated to,' said Picard firmly.

'_We are the Borg. Resistance is futile.'_

'Without our aid, the Aralla will destroy you totally. You know that, just as well as I do.' Picard's voice was still calm, but it held steel. 'Allow our ships to approach the Unicomplex, but remain outside of weapons range. Otherwise, we will break off from this course and head on our own way. The Aralla will come for you first, and you cannot resist them.'

There was silence, and Worf glanced at Picard, wondering how he could possibly bluff the Borg. Surely even the Aralla could not just destroy the Borg as easily as Picard suggested they could. Could they?

The Borg remained silent, and Seven felt even more tense. Picard had brought the first confrontation to a head long before she expected he would, but obviously he felt confident enough that he could bluff the Borg.

Ben Sisko had ordered weapons and shields ready the second that the Sphere had dropped out of warp, and their subsequent demand and rebuttal by Picard had made him even more worried. Kira rested her hands on the phaser control, tense and more nervous than he had ever seen the hardened Bajoran woman. Dax had an evasive pattern programmed into the helm, and Sisko had no doubt that the rest of the Fleet had the same readied.

'What the hell are they waiting for?' muttered Bashir, his voice strained, showing his anxiety.

Janeway knew exactly how dangerous it was trying to bluff the Borg. She had not dared try it against them when Species 8472 threatened the galaxy, but the Aralla were even more dangerous than the Borg themselves or Species 8472. However, she could see that Picard felt he had all the cards. A single Sphere was no match for the combined Fleet, and possibly a single direct strike against the Unicomplex now might destroy the Borg threat. But how would that solve the problem of the Aralla? As Picard claimed, the Borg were probably the only power that could destroy the Aralla without dragging Species 8472 back out of fluidic space – and Janeway wasn't about to do that again.

B'Elanna Torres had returned to duty at last, but she was still broken, and her emotions were wildly swinging from moment to moment. Now, she displayed anger, as she said, 'Is that _idiot_ trying to get us all killed?'

Janeway forgave her the insubordination as she had forgiven Torres a lot in the past. But, she had to admit, B'Elanna had a point.

Picard stared calmly at the screen, knowing that the Borg would give in. Picard had them over a barrel. 'I want an answer!' he prodded.

'_We are the Borg. Your ships will remain out of weapons range.'_

That was the closest the Borg were likely to get to a concessionary tone, and Picard smiled. 'Thank you.'

All across the Fleet, nervous weapons officers and captains relaxed from their hypertension.

The Sphere waited a moment, and then fired a blue pulse of energy out into space.

It seemed to strike something, although there seemed to be nothing there to strike, and abruptly there was a fire of blue of energy before the Fleet. Slowly, the fire spread out, encircling the Fleet until all that could be seen was the crackling blue energy.

Then, in a wink of an eye it vanished, and the Borg appeared.

Directly before the _Enterprise_ and the Sphere that had led the Fleet to this place rested a giant structure that stretched for five hundred miles in all directions. Irregular, lumpy and grey metal combined with symmetrical shapes that the eye recognised after a moment as Cubes, Spheres, Diamonds, Scout ships and hundreds more vessels under construction. Spidery arms reached out all around, all glowing with the eerie green glow of suppressed energy and blocking out the stars with their darkness and brooding evil.

But that was not what caught the eyes of the Fleet commanders and every single person who could see outside of their own ships. What captivated and stunned them, horrified and terrified them and what deadened their senses, forcing them into mute oppressed silence as they watched and wondered, were the ships.

There were at least a million Cubes all around the Fleet, filling space with their vastness, their darkness and their cold, featureless lack of individuality. Dull metal blocked out the stars, oppressing even the Fleet before them with its sheer power. Flitting between the Cubes were the shapes of Spheres, Diamonds and the two designs of scout ship the Borg employed.

And there was no doubt in anyone's mind that every single weapon in that giant fleet was trained on the Fleet. And they would all fire at exactly the same time. And the war against the Aralla would end, just like that.

This conglomeration of power finally showed everyone in the fleet just how small and pathetic all their squabbles were. It was all very well to argue amongst yourselves when you were all equally poised to take advantage, but when the largest powers would step in and show you their muscle and strength, it was obvious that unity was the only way to survive. They realised at that second that if they did not unite, the Borg would step in and assimilate them all with ease and without hesitation.

'Oh, shit,' whispered Ensign Truper, his face frozen. Picard empathised completely.

Neelix, who had come onto the bridge of the _Voyager_ at an inopportune moment, cursed in an obscure Talaxian dialect, that even the Universal translator couldn't identify. But it was obvious to everyone present what it meant. 'I completely agree,' said Janeway quietly.

Dax, Sisko, Bashir and Kira all sat and stared mutely at the screen. Sisko noted that Nerys had removed her hand from the phaser control. 'Major? Who said you could do that?' he forced out, his mouth unwilling to move without being forced.

Kira shrugged, not looking at him. 'Against that, what's the point?'

Sisko had to agree.

Picard glanced at Seven, who had her eyes wide open. 'Why?' It was painfully obvious what he meant.

'They've gathered the Collective into one place. This is the entire Borg Empire. This only happens at the most serious times and threats to the Collective. Even Species 8472 didn't merit this action.' She relaxed slightly, probably the only person in the Fleet capable of doing that, and turned slightly more confident eyes upon him. 'They've encountered the Aralla. They know they're here. Sir, you will be able to bargain with them. They are far more frightened of the Aralla than you are of the Borg.'

'You're sure?' said Picard. His question was answered by Seven's relaxed pose. The wideness of her eyes was due to surprise at the collection of Borg ships in one place, he now saw. 'I'll take that as a yes.'

He stood and stepped to the front of the bridge. 'This is not what I would ever have thought of as a position of strength,' he murmured to himself. However, the fact that the Borg had not opened fire on them yet might be an encouraging sign.

'Open hailing frequencies to the Unicomplex,' Picard ordered Hedly.

'Open,' said Hedly, her voice choked.

'This is Locutus of Borg.'

__

'We are the Borg. State your intentions.'

'I know that you know of the Aralla presence in this galaxy,' began Picard. 'I also know that you cannot defeat them alone. If you fire upon us, and destroy this Fleet, you will die by the Aralla's hand as surely as if you yourselves had wielded the phaser.'

__

'Do you have information which will destroy the Aralla?'

__

Interesting, Picard noted.The Borg did not refer to the Aralla as a "Species", but by their race name. He remembered that Seven of Nine did not do so either. 'One of the ships in this Fleet carries a virus which may defeat the Aralla, yes.' By not naming a specific ship, he might guarantee that the Borg did not assimilate the Fleet.

'_State the ship name.'_

'No.'

'_You will be assimilated. State the ship.'_

'No.' Picard wiped the sweat from his brow.

'_Resistance is futile. Disclose the information.'_

'I want a guarantee of protection before I disclose any information to the Collective.'

__

'No guarantees. We will take the information.'

'Sir, two Borg Cubes are towards the _Enterprise_. The Sphere is moving off.'

'Back us up. Order all ships to full attack readiness!' ordered Worf.

'I ask for twenty minutes to discuss the situation!' said Picard desperately. His plan was unravelling at the seams, and he knew that he would have to use his hated but necessary fallback plan. 'We can prepare the information, but I need to speak with the others in this Fleet!'

There was a pause. '_Twenty minutes is acceptable. Prepare to disclose information upon expiry.'_ The channel was cut abruptly, and Picard, his face pale, turned quickly to Hedly.

'Order General Martok, Admiral Jaled, Gul Dukat, Daimon Kreal and Captain Sisko to my ready room immediately. I need them here now! We don't have much time.' Without another word, he strode to his ready room door. He turned to Seven and Worf. 'Both of you, come with me now. Commander Hedly, you have the bridge.'

As Seven and Worf left their positions, Hedly gazed at the screen and the innumerable Borg vessels before them. 'How kind of you, sir,' she muttered incredulously.

Martok, Jaled and Kreal all arrived to find that Dukat and Sisko had beaten them there. Martok glanced at Worf, and was surprised to see his face was pale. The woman on Picard's other side also looked concerned, but Martok was far more surprised by Worf's worry than by the human's.

'General, Daimon, Admiral,' said Picard. 'We have a dire situation on our hands. The Borg have proved less amenable than I hoped. I believed that they had so great a fear of the Aralla that they would acquiesce immediately. Now, we will have to pay a price for my stupidity. Or at the very least, _I_ will.'

'How do you mean, Admiral?' said Jaled.

'Locutus of Borg is a revered figure, a powerful one amongst the Borg. I believed that impersonating him but not connecting with the Borg directly would have the effect of triggering a response. I was wrong. I will have to get much closer to have any impact on the Borg.'

'Sir?!' Dukat's voice was raised in almost-panic. He had just about grasped the implication of Picard's statement.

Picard told them his plan.

When the leaders left the ready room ten minutes later, they all looked shell-shocked, especially Ben Sisko. Picard, though, strode to the front of the bridge. 'Open hailing frequencies.'

'Open,' said Hedly.

'_Enterprise_ to Unicomplex.'

'_We are the Borg.'_

'I have the information you requested.'

'_Transmit the information.'_

'I will need to beam aboard the Unicomplex.' There was a gasp all around the bridge, especially from Thames, but Picard ignored it. He felt like a man released. 'Transmit co-ordinates.'

'_Beam to this location. If it is a deception, we will destroy the Fleet.'_

'Understood. I shall beam aboard in five minutes.' He turned to Hedly. 'Close frequencies.'

'Yes, sir,' said Hedly. As she performed the simple task, she looked up at Picard. 'Sir, I'll have a security detail standing by with phaser rifles in transporter room three.'

'No, Commander,' said Picard. 'No security. The Borg might react badly.'

Hedly looked as if she would protest, but a look from Picard silenced her. She nodded her head.

Thames and Truper turned and looked around as Picard said, 'If anything should go wrong, then I'm proud to have served with you. You're the best crew in Starfleet and the best crew I've ever worked with. I'm honoured by my time with you. Thank you.'

Thames looked as if she was about to say something, but then she turned and faced the screen again, as did Truper. Worf, on his part, came up as Picard was about to enter the turbolift, and held out a hand. Picard shook it, surprised by Worf's action. 'Good luck, sir. I'm honoured to have been able to serve with you again.'

'Take them home, Commander,' said Picard quietly. 'I can't do it now, but you can.'

'I'll try, sir.' Worf raised his fist to his heart and said, '_Qapla!'_

Picard nodded. 'And to you, old friend.'

He entered the turbolift, and Worf tapped his communicator the moment the doors closed. 'Worf to La Forge. Geordi, he's on his way.'

'Understood,' said the voice of the Chief Engineer.

Picard turned into the last corridor before the transporter room, and stopped when he saw Geordi. 'Mr. La Forge?'

'Admiral, Worf's told me that you're going to the Borg Unicomplex.'

'Correct,' said Picard simply. What use was there in denying it?

'Sir, I want you to see something I've been working on for quite a while now.' Geordi held out his hand. A tricorder rested on his palm, and Picard frowned.

'It's a tricorder,' he said, not understanding.

'I've spent the last two years working on a computer program to combat the Borg. An advanced version of the invasive program, if you will.'

Picard narrowed his eyes, and stepped closer to the engineer, concentrating on the tricorder. 'An new way to destroy the Collective?'

'Not quite, sir, although it could have that effect,' said Geordi. 'I know you haven't got time to hear the details, so I'll explain briefly. When we completed the mission to the 21st Century, and you informed us about the Borg Queen, it set me to wondering how the Borg were connected to this single focal point. I set down a few diagrams, but before I could do any real work, the Aralla invasion took my mind off it. When you announced your plan to contact the Borg, I was reminded of this. I've spent much of my time in the last few years working on this. I've consulted with engineers across the Fleet, and we've come up with this. It's basically an evolution of the invasive program, a virus designed to cut the link between the Borg drones and their central computer complex, thus effectively separating the Queen from the drones under her command temporarily. If someone were quick, they might be able to assume the place of the Queen in the command structure of the Borg, if it were used close enough to the Borg central complex, which would put them in total control of the Collective, _without _being assimilated. This seems as good a time as any.'

Picard stared at Geordi, a grin forming, suddenly realising that he had found a way forward. 'Geordi, you're a genius! Why wasn't I informed earlier?'

'I would have done, but we only started talking again a few days ago,' said Geordi acidly. Picard bowed his head, mock-ashamedly, but was too buoyant to maintain the pretence for long.

'How does it work?'

'It needs to be uploaded to the Borg Collective with another program, otherwise their defences will neutralise it immediately. It should take effect immediately.'

Picard held up his own tricorder. 'I have the perfect decoy.' He held it to Geordi. 'Upload the program to mine, and I'll get over there immediately. We can't keep the Borg waiting.'

Geordi took the tricorder and pressed a few buttons. As he did so, Picard tried to calm himself. There was no guarantee that this plan would work. He might still have to use his fallback plan. However, there was now a chance for his escape from the Unicomplex, and he did not intend to fail.

Geordi handed the tricorder back. 'Just make sure that _you _upload the virus, because I bet the Borg are bright enough to spot this before it's uploaded.'

Picard nodded and put the tricorder in a holster on his belt, where he kept his phaser. 'Thank you for this lifeline, Geordi.'

'Just don't get it wrong, sir.' Geordi held out his hand and Picard shook it. Then, turning away, he entered the transporter room.

He stepped up to the platform and turned to the operator and said, 'Beam me over to the Borg Unicomplex, Ensign.'

'Aye, sir,' said the young woman, with barely a hesitation. Picard paused to take a last look around the room, and then he faced the Ensign at the controls.

'Energise.'

The blue beam of energy faded around Picard, and he found himself in total darkness. Blinking a few times, he found that the darkness did not fade away. Frowning slightly, he drew his phaser and turned around.

Before him stretched tiers and tiers of alcoves, all containing Borg. For miles and miles into the distance, he could see nothing but immense gantries of dark metal, connecting and criss-crossing the expanse before him. He was stood on a walkway that crossed from one set of alcoves to another. Below him was a dark green pulsating mass, and Picard could not comprehend its use or its nature. Occasionally to either side, a drone would get up from an alcove and start off on a jerky walk in either direction on tasks unknown and unfathomable.

The darkness Picard had found was due to being beamed in looking towards a wall, which this particular gantry backed onto. Although everything had an organic sheen to it, Picard put his hand to the wall and it came away dry, as he knew it would. Picard was repulsed by everything that the Borg were and stood for, but a dark fascination allowed him to watch.

As he did so, he noticed two Borg carrying a third along one of the lower gantries just above the green mass, one which ran along another row of alcoves. Although two of the drones were fully functioning and fully equipped, the third was stripped of all the little extras that the Borg forcibly grafted on after the initial assimilation. One arm was a stump, which had once carried a form of tool upon it, undoubtedly. The head was bare, and Picard knew that this creature had been severed from the Collective, for the interface all Borg wore was missing. The black body armour was gone, leaving the drone with nothing to cover its body. The sensor eyepiece had also been removed.

But Picard was sickened by what he heard. The third was not struggling, but the cries it made rang through the chamber. It did not speak in the monotone voice of the Collective, but in the human voice of an individual. It did not speak as a drone, but as a single human being.

It was an old man, and he was limp and unable to struggle, but his voice cried out, 'Help me! Please, someone! Help me!'

Picard knew then that the Borg, once a drone had served its full efficient lifespan, from birth until just before death, severed it from the Collective, giving it back its individuality, but not through any charitable desire. They then stripped it of all the modifications that the Collective had made to the body and disposed of the still living drone. The drone was allowed to realise all that it was as a Borg, and that it would have these last few moments of freedom before death. Picard would rather die than remember what it was like to be free and then have those moments cruelly taken from you.

The drones stopped. The cries continued, and Picard decided enough was enough. He ran to the far end of the gantry, where it intersected another that took him to a point about ten feet from the two drones and their captive. Not only that, it was only a short jump down to the level of those particular drones.

Ignoring all of the emotionless faces in the alcoves beside him, Picard hurried to the lowest point, scrambled over the safety rail, and leapt.

He hit the floor, rolled and came up with his phaser. His first shot caught one of the Borg by surprise, and it crashed to the floor with barely a sound. The second drone dropped the old man, and turned to Picard, it's tool hand lunging for him. The second shot blasted it to the ground as well.

Holstering his phaser, Picard helped the man up, and tapped his commbadge, ignoring the moans of fear from the old man. 'Picard to _Enterprise_, two to –' At that moment, he noticed two things. One was the static that covered the transmission, killing the channel.

The other was a cold hand fastening upon his shoulder and throwing him across the gantry.

Picard sprawled painfully, and saw a drone, obviously from one of the alcoves behind him, advancing towards him. He grabbed his phaser, and fired at the drone. The beam deflected from a personal shield. The Borg had adapted.

Another Borg stepped from an alcove, and advanced towards him. A hand plucked the phaser from his grasp, and another lifted him to his feet.

Picard was marched away by the two Borg, whilst another picked up the old man and threw him into the green pulsating mass.

The screams of shrill agony followed Picard down the walkway.

Picard was dragged down the walkway and through a series of corridors. Fortunately, his captors made no move to remove the tricorder at his hip, and Picard made sure that he did not bring their attention to it.

As he was dragged along, he was able to glance into various rooms and corridors leading further into the Unicomplex from the main corridor. In some, Borg drones waited, motionless, in small regeneration alcoves, exactly alike each one. Their featureless faces betrayed no emotion, and Picard felt himself growing angry at the individuality robbed from them.

Although Picard had, to some extent, reconciled himself to working alongside the Borg, he still hated them for their destruction of civilisations that did no more than get too close to the Borg. Their assimilation of hundreds of cultures, and millions of races, practices that extended outside of this universe, had led to their name being among the most reviled in the galaxy, if not the most. Picard felt a measure of his hatred of the Aralla drain away, because he knew that the Borg had created the situation he was now part of, and he swore he would fix it – both the Aralla and the Borg – for eternity.

Picard lost track of time slightly, as he was pulled along the featureless interminable corridors by the two drones. The dullness of the Borg Collective, rather than its danger, is one of the first things to strike the mind, and Picard himself was risking his mind by succumbing to the pointless efficiency that existed in the centre of the Borg Collective.

In the centre of the Unicomplex, that would be a fatal mistake.

Abruptly, the drones stopped, and let go of his arms. Surprised by their halt, Picard fell to his knees. He looked up.

He had been brought to a dark chamber, in the centre of which stood a tall clear cylinder of transparent material. Inside, stood a torso, one belonging to a woman. However, there was no head.

Picard gasped and scrambled to his feet, horrified. Not by the prospect of the headless body, but by what the presence of that body meant for him. The Borg behind him grabbed his shoulder, but Picard took a pace forward, breaking the grip. He had deliberately come here, and he had a task to perform here. No, he would not run just because he had been unnerved.

In a strange way, his task had been made somewhat easier.

'I have returned!' he shouted out. His cry echoed throughout the chamber. All around him, he could feel the dead eyes of the drones turned to watch him, an intruder into their hive. 'I have returned.'

There was no reply. Picard stared up, into the darkness above him. He knew he was being watched. The spider always watches the fly before it springs. 'I bring your information. What you want from us.'

'Do you want something in return?' That voice. That voice sent chills down his spine. Picard brought his hands together to stop them shaking. The voice was that of a woman seductive, soft, but no woman Picard had ever known spoke with the cool dispassionate tones of a machine made organic. And no woman ever made him feel as though he were being eaten inside.

'You know what I want. Leave the Fleet intact.'

'I cannot do that.' A black pipe, lashing wildly like an uncontrolled tentacle from the darkness above him, whipped the tricorder from his holster. Another gripped the phaser that Picard had brought, the one he had used on Beverly, and held it up to the light. 'Foolish,' continued the voice. 'How easily I could destroy you now.'

A hissing noise startled Picard, and, from the top of the cylinder, a head and shoulders were descending. Black machinery, and what looked like a spine, waved gently as the head was lowered gently into position. The face of a woman, one whom Picard knew too well, smiled at the Admiral, a smile that belonged on the face of the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, not to a Borg. 'You are an Admiral, now, Locutus.'

Picard's heart was racing, and he wiped sweat from his brow. This was the only being in the galaxy who could make him feel total terror. 'I command that Fleet.' There was no use for false modesty, or deception. Not here. Not her.

'Ah, yes, your precious Fleet.' The body was now complete and the woman smiled again. Black pipes that had suspended the head from view now withdrew into the ceiling again, and the clear cylinder retracted with them. The Borg Queen stepped forward.

Picard stared at her, mouth dry. The pale skin, the black, slick body armour, the pipes that coiled under the skin, at the crown of the skull, they all belonged to the Borg, but the face... The face that launched a thousand Borg stared at him, evil in the eyes, evil disguised as efficiency. She wore the faint smile permanently, as though she knew everything that there was to know. In a way, that was true. To the Borg, anything they did not know, did not exist. Until they assimilated, raped it from the civilisations they destroyed.

Worse, by far, than the Aralla. Picard was truly trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea.

The Queen waved a hand, and one wall shimmered, revealing a view of the Fleet Picard commanded. On one side of the picture, strange icons and pictograms flashed and shimmered. One part of Picard could not understand them or their meaning, but...

There was a part of the Borg in his soul, Picard knew. After his liberation from the Collective long ago, he had thought it dead and buried, but her proximity brought them from their sleep, clamouring at the door of his thoughts, and at the gate of his soul. They had first reawakened when he had encountered this creature three years before, and now they echoed through his mind. They recognised the symbols from years ago.

__

I am Locutus of Borg....

She saw his discomfort. She smiled. 'I see you recall. I have lost patience, Locutus. This futile struggle you put up against your destiny will tire me no longer. We outnumber you and your pathetic Fleet by hundreds to one. You will fight. You will be assimilated.' She smiled again, and there could be no mistaking the malevolence there. '_Resistance is futile!_'

'I do not resist now,' said Picard quietly, his head bowed.

'What?' She turned to face him now, staring into his eyes for a moment, lifting his head up by the chin. Picard tried not to recoil from the cool touch. 'How can you mean?'

'I give you something, something that you cannot gain from any other.' Picard gripped her hand, holding it to his chest. He felt free at last. 'I give you Locutus. I have come to be assimilated.'

The Borg Queen stood and stared at Picard for a long moment. She was genuinely surprised. Then, she smiled. 'You have tried to lie to me once before, Locutus.'

'No, I did not,' said Picard, making his tone protesting, pleading. 'When Data was your captive, I wanted nothing more than for you to free him. I would have given _everything_ to free him.'

'The individual needs,' she sneered. 'You had a get-out clause! You had set the _Enterprise_ to self-destruct!'

She remembered! Oh, she remembered! Picard stared at her, hands working uselessly by his sides. She saw his realisation. 'Oh, yes, I remember. The Collective is one, Locutus. Surely you cannot already have forgotten that. My mind, all that I am, cannot be contained in one body. My knowledge encompasses the universe. It needs this body merely so I can give an impression to those that need it that I have one. I am the Borg.'

Picard saw. She was not the spider in the web. She _was _the web itself. The Collective, the ships, the drones, all of them were tools, extensions of her own will and mind. The Borg were not a race, and could not be defined as a race. They were – The Borg _is_ her!

They had all known this, seen the way the Borg operated, and seen their efficiency, and not understood. They knew that the drones were controlled by a single mind, and a single command, but they still did not understand that drones were not the Borg. The Cubes were not the Borg. Even the Collective mind is not the Borg.

The Queen, far from being the central controlling force, was both the force controlling and the force being controlled. She was both the spider and the web she spun.

The Borg looked at him. 'You remember now,' she said sweetly. 'Locutus, despite my wish that he were equal to me, once assimilated, could never be more than a drone, under my control. If I assimilate you now, then you will be part of me, and I will be _all_ of you.' She turned away. 'For what I know you want, it is impossible.'

Picard knew that his plan had failed totally before it had even begun. He had hoped to use Geordi's virus to take control of the Collective from the Queen, or at the last resort to use his phaser to destroy the Borg central computer. The Fleet could not afford to be in the centre of such a huge number of hostile Borg ships. At best, very few ships would survive the onslaught. At worst, the entire Fleet would be destroyed to the last man.

Even Picard's desperate last option, assimilation and influence from a high position within the Collective, was lost.

He despaired. He had led the Fleet into this impossible position; _he_ had assumed that the Borg were leaderless and desperate because of the Aralla menace. He was the one who had ruthlessly pursued this course, blind to the alternatives until it was too late. And now it seemed that he had led the Fleet right into the jaws of the monster. It was the ultimate betrayal, and was certain to spell the end of Alpha Quadrant civilisation for all eternity. And, with the information Picard had given the Borg, it was conceivable that she would defeat the Aralla, and that the galaxy would become totally subservient to the Borg.

He, Jean-Luc Picard, was totally guilty.


	16. Emotions, Promotions and Commotions

__

Chapter XVI

The Borg stared silently at Picard's defeated face. 'At long last, Locutus, you realise that you have lost. I was right, and have been for millennia. Resistance is futile.'

Picard could not do anything other than make a small nod, his spirit crushed. The Borg regarded him. Despite the sweet satisfaction of victory over this spirited but weak individual, she felt disappointed at seeing such a powerful personality broken like this. He would become a drone, she had decided, but he would see his precious Fleet destroyed. He had caused enough devastation to her Collective to earn that.

She remembered the tricorder. The information contained within would be useful in the extreme. A modified version of that information would destroy the Aralla completely. All that was needed was to circumvent their shielding. She summoned two more pipes to enter the tricorder. The tentacle-like appendages of her mind assimilated the information in seconds.

And the voices in her head, always present, all-encompassing, speaking constantly to tell her of the Collective, stopped.

She stared blankly for a moment, alone for the first time in centuries, at the drones suddenly stiff and unmoving, at the pipes, suddenly slack and still. The phaser clattered to the floor.

Picard looked up as he heard the phaser hit the floor, and stared for a brief second at the Borg. The virus had still worked!

He leapt into action, his depression disappearing. He grabbed the phaser, rolled across the floor, and aimed it at the Borg.

She stared at him for the last few seconds, and said, 'Where are they?' For the first time, her voice sounded listless, stripped of all the self-possession it had always possessed. In a few minutes, Picard knew, she would regain control, and, in all probability, destroy first him, and the Fleet. He did not intend to give her that time.

He fired. The killing beam punched right through the Borg's torso, ripping her apart in seconds. She dissolved into nothing without even a scream.

Picard stared at the dark patch that remained on the floor of her, and felt, within, his last connection to the Borg through Locutus, die alongside her. He tapped his commbadge, his face grim. 'Picard to Seven of Nine. Operation Takeover is now begun.'

The only answer was a beam of blue energy on the other side of the chamber, and Seven of Nine materialised. 'Is she dead?' she asked immediately.

'Yes, but I suspect that she will be able to reincarnate herself, given time.'

Seven nodded. 'I will begin immediately.' She strode to a console, ignoring the stricken and unmoving drones, and began working quickly at it.

Picard stared silently around the chamber, feeling his depression, defeat and despair fade away. For a moment, until she had activated the tricorder, he had thought they had been beaten. The Queen had seemed all powerful, totally in control of the situation and of his fate. And then, the virus had worked.

Against all expectation, she had been cut off from her drones. Picard had made a dangerous mistake. He had overestimated the capabilities of his opponent. Indeed, he had been doing so since the first days of the Aralla war. Inwardly, he kicked himself. He had been gifted with a gilt-edged opportunity, and he had nearly missed it because he had overplayed the strengths of the Borg as opposed to their weaknesses.

Now the plan could be carried forward. Picard handed the phaser to Seven, and stepped into the space vacated by the cylinder that had housed the Borg, and turned to face the ex-drone. It was all down to her.

Seven's nervousness at entering the domain of the Queen once again had diminished once she had immersed herself in the work she had to do. Quickly, she had to make the Borg computer realise a new set of brain patterns as the central influence. Those of Picard.

'You cannot succeed!' The voice, emanating from nowhere, made Seven duck involuntarily. 'Locutus will not rule the Collective!' It faded away, as the Borg's mental patterns sought a faster way to restore control to herself.

Seven continued working. As she did so, she glanced at Picard, who gazed back at her with a steadfast expression, almost one of unconcern, and said, 'She can speak, but she has not regained control. We will know that she has when the drones begin to move.'

Picard glanced involuntarily at the still unmoving drones that filled the chamber. 'Hurry it up then,' he said, calmly.

Seven nodded and got on with her job. Long minutes of silence, interrupted by the occasional bleep from a console that Seven was working on, marked the strangest and quietest battle that Picard had ever been involved in. The battle to regain control of the Collective raged in the computers that surrounded them, but made no impact on the real environment.

The voice suddenly roared out, 'I have control!'

Picard stared at the ceiling, but then Seven pressed the final control. Instantly, he was gripped by power. His body stiffened, back arched, and he stared blindly into nothing.

His mind was cast into the Collective.

There was nothing but energy here. His mind saw patterns of force, energy lines, the matrix of the Borg Collective laid out at his feet in black and green and purple lines. Minds, connected over light-years of distance, right across the galaxy, and beyond, formed this vast expanse of knowledge and power. He sensed it's silent, patient wait for leadership and it's intent and purpose. He looked down at himself, and realised that his mind had anthropomorphosised his mind's view of himself as his corporeal body. Picard knew that his corporeal body was uninhabited now. His mind was totally in the Collective.

At the tips of his fingers, he knew, lay the millions of Borg drones, and ships and materials that lay at the Collective's beck and call. He could reach out and touch anyone, and make them do what he wanted.

He finally knew what it was like to be omnipotent.

'You are in my domain now, Locutus,' said a voice behind him. Picard whirled to see that the Borg stood behind him. She smiled. 'The Collective spreads all around us, to the farthest star that you know of, and beyond.'

'I know,' he whispered.

'Yes, Locutus. Incidentally, that was a clever trick that you performed with the virus.' She held up a fist, and opened it. On the palm of her hand rested a small, spiky black mass. She looked from it to him. 'I tamed it. It is now assimilated into the Collective.'

Picard opened up his fist as well, and the same ball of spikes appeared on it. The Borg stared at him incredulously. 'How did you do that?'

'The virus cannot be tamed, or assimilated,' said Picard quietly. 'You have incorporated it into the very structure of the Collective, yes, but it was designed for that. Even now, it is breaking down your new connection to the Collective.'

'How?' said the Queen, stunned. Her face lost all of the possession and self-control it had possessed.

'It was designed,' said Picard, realising this even without being told, 'to be assimilated by you and incorporated into the Collective central core. Once there, it would block all your attempts to regain control whilst simultaneously reprogramming the Collective to accept me as the new Borg. You took it into yourself. _You _made it part of yourself. You are being destroyed from within, for it's very structure, that which destroys the Collective, is inside you now. And it will destroy you.' The Queen gasped and stepped backwards, horror and fury breaking across her face, fighting for control. She was powerless in her own domain. The human had beaten her.

Picard advanced on her, forcing her back step by step. 'I rule here. I am Locutus of Borg no longer. I am Jean-Luc Picard, and I will not allow the Borg to terrorise the galaxy any longer.'

'But the energy flows, they still possess my signature!' she screamed at him, desperate for any edge. Picard pitied her, but still advanced slowly, holding out the virus in his hand. 'I will fight you!' she shouted.

And Picard smiled cruelly. 'Resistance is futile.'

He threw the virus at her. It connected and sank into her middle, disappearing without trace into her body.

The Queen screamed, a long, terrified hoarse cry of agony, and her body began to disintegrate. Before his very eyes, Picard watched her sink to her knees, her voice growing quieter and quieter, her body growing more and more transparent until, suddenly, she collapsed into a million glowing shards, which spread out faster than light, as fast as thought.

The dark colours of decay and death that personified the Borg faded underneath the assault of light, and quickly, as quickly as their dead mistress had been destroyed, they disappeared. Orange light encircled Picard and spread out across the distance. Picard watched as the blackness died away and then he smiled.

And stepped out of the Collective.

Seven had watched for a few seconds as Picard's body had stiffened and jerked as the power of the Collective ran through him. Now, his body relaxed and he opened his eyes. The warm gaze of a man no longer possessed by his inner demons looked back at her. 'We won,' he said simply.

Seven smiled and relaxed. Picard stepped forward from the booth that once contained the Queen and looked at the drones surrounding him. One by one, they turned away, and vanished into the darkness of the Unicomplex.

Picard willed the screen to appear before him again.

'Sir,' said Dax suddenly, 'we're receiving a transmission from the Borg. To all ships.'

'On screen,' said Sisko, his blood freezing. Had Picard failed?

Picard appeared, his face calm, but his body radiated power. 'All ships, this is Grand Admiral Picard. Stand down from red alert and power down weapons. The Borg Collective is ours now, and we stand, united, to face the Aralla. Our flight is over. We will face them soon, and we will avenge ourselves upon them. Picard out.'

Across the Fleet, stunned silence greeted Picard's message. Nervous captains, waiting for the worst, saw the Borg ships around them pull away and fall back. The leaders of the Fleet announced Picard's victory, and put into place their plans to turn the tide of war against the Aralla. The Fleet had finally found its resting place, amongst the Borg.

Picard stepped onto the bridge of the _Enterprise_ to be greeted with tumultuous applause from the bridge crew, who cheered and clapped at his victory. Worf and Geordi stepped forward to shake his hand, and Picard stepped forward to take his command chair.

He turned to Geordi first. 'Mr. La Forge, your devious mind has produced an absolute masterpiece in that virus. You cut the Borg Queen totally out of the link.'

'Thank you, sir. I've thought about it, and I think that a combination of that virus and the invasive program would be the key to defeating the Aralla. We need to learn more about them and their computer systems though.'

Picard nodded. 'I authorise you to set to work, Geordi,' he said. 'Use anything you want.'

'Even the Borg?' asked La Forge.

'Even the Borg,' said Picard, smiling. The engineer looked like a child with a new toy.

Picard turned to Seven of Nine. 'Can I see you in my ready room for a moment, Seven?'

'By all means,' she replied gravely, and followed him off the bridge.

Picard turned to her and smiled once they were through the door. 'I just wanted to thank you, Seven. Your assistance and bravery in volunteering for the plan was the decisive factor.'

'Thank you, Admiral,' said Seven modestly, 'but it was only my duty.'

'Nevertheless,' said Picard, stepping behind his desk and sitting down, 'I fully intend to report this to Captain Janeway, and request your reassignment to my side.'

Seven froze. 'I thought you would have no need of me, Admiral.'

Picard shook his head. 'I do control the Collective now, it is true, but I need someone to guide and help me. The Queen was used to controlling them, but I need someone who has experienced the Collective and known the power behind it. You will be my mentor, in a way, to knowing the ways of the Borg and how to best utilise them. If you want, I can always make it an order, but I would prefer you to be willing.'

Seven made up her mind. 'I have no problem in fulfilling the role, sir, but I have little experience of life outside of _Voyager_. It is unsettling to be so quickly cast into a new environment so suddenly. However, I would be honoured to work with you. I would like leave to report to _Voyager_, and say my farewells.'

Picard nodded. 'By all means.'

Seven stepped into Janeway's ready room. The captain looked up. 'Ah, Seven, sit down.' The ex-drone did so. 'I understand you've made quite an impression on Admiral Picard,' said Janeway.

'I believe so, Captain,' replied Seven.

Janeway smiled at Seven's anxiety. 'Don't look so worried, I'm pleased for you. Genuinely pleased. When we first brought you on board, I sometimes wondered whether or not you'd prove to be able to interact successfully in human society again. From the evidence of the last few days, I needn't have worried.'

Seven licked her lips. 'Admiral Picard has requested that I be assigned to the _Enterprise_,' she said quickly, nervous that Janeway might take offence.

'Yes, I know,' said Janeway. 'I was just reading the request. It is a glowing account of your actions onboard the Unicomplex.' She leaned forward and clasped her hands before her. 'However, there is one thing that I would like to know.'

Seven's heart started beating quicker. 'What is it?'

'Do you want to go? I see no reason to turn down the request; indeed I believe it would be a good step forward for you,' she added. 'But I will turn it down if you say to me that you felt that you could not go for a reason.'

Seven thought of many reasons in a few seconds. Her work aboard _Voyager_, the fact that she was not used to humans outside her own group here on this starship, her sudden recent illness –

She shook her head. Her work aboard _Voyager _amounted to little more than overseeing Astrometrics, a job that Ensign Kim was capable of doing now. The illness and emotional problems could be dealt with by a visit to the Doctor, and the fact that she was unused to humans was part of the learning process. She would have to do it at sometime, so why not now?

Seven of Nine looked at Captain Janeway steadily. 'Captain, I can see no reason why I should not leave _Voyager_ to go to the _Enterprise_.'

Janeway smiled, a sad smile. 'I'm glad that you think so too. I will approve the transfer as soon as it's convenient.' She held out a hand, and Seven shook it, a little unsure. 'I'm glad that we've had you onboard, and I'm proud that you've been a member of my crew.'

'I would appreciate the transfer being now, Captain,' said Seven. 'There is no sense in waiting.'

Janeway nodded again, and handed the padd to Seven. Seven electronically signed it by retinal scan, and Janeway took the padd back and did the same. Then, the captain stood, went around the desk, and handed the padd to Seven once again, who stood as she received it. Janeway, unexpectedly, reached out and embraced the other woman gently. Seven, slightly mystified, did the same.

Then Janeway broke the embrace and turned away, making sure that Seven didn't see her wiping a tear from her eye. 'Thank you, Seven, for being with us.'

Seven nodded. 'Permission to disembark?' she asked formally.

Janeway turned, smiled and nodded, her eyes bright. 'Permission granted.'

Seven turned and left the room.

Immediately, Chakotay came in. 'Are you alright, Captain?' he asked.

Janeway sat down at her desk and rubbed her eyes. 'Yes, Commander,' she said.

'With respect,' Chakotay added, 'you don't look it. Was it something to do with Seven?'

'Yes,' said Janeway, sniffing. 'Admiral Picard's requested that she be assigned to the _Enterprise_.'

Chakotay smiled. 'That's wonderful news. She must have made quite an impression on him.'

'Yes,' said Janeway. 'Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for her. It's just that, this crew's breaking up around me. Tom's dead, Seven's left for the _Enterprise_, and everything's moving so fast and out of my control.'

Chakotay nodded and sat down. 'I know what you mean. But it's even worse with Seven isn't it?' he prodded gently.

Janeway looked at him. 'I've never had any children, but it was as if she was like a child, my daughter. We saw her grow up like a child and become a human being again. She's come so far, in such a short space of time, that I'm surprised by her progress. She's made quite an impression on this crew.'

'She certainly has. But all children must leave home sometime,' said Chakotay. He himself had never felt as close to Seven as Janeway or the Doctor had. 'That's what's happening to Seven now.'

'I know,' said Janeway wretchedly. 'It's all happening so fast.'

They sat for a short while, thinking. Then Janeway said, 'But that's only a chapter of the story. We'd better see what we're wanted to do.'

Chakotay admired Janeway's ability to put traumatic events behind her and return to business. But, they both knew, the pain would strike anew once she came off duty....

Seven's next visit was to see the EMH in sickbay. She walked briskly into the sickbay to find it unexpectedly empty. The EMH had tended to keep himself activated lately. 'Computer, activate Emergency Holographic Program.'

'Please state the nature of the medical emergency,' said a voice from the far side of the room, and Seven turned to see the Doctor smiling at her. 'Ah, Seven, what a nice surprise. What can I do for you?'

'I think I'm ill, Doctor,' said Seven, her voice worried.

'Ah, self-diagnosis,' said the EMH. 'What would I do without it?' He indicated the bio-bed, and Seven laid herself down on it. 'Symptoms?'

Seven described the symptoms as the EMH began scanning her with the tricorder; the itchy, hot palms, staring blankly into space and giggling to herself, which she believed were the onset of a serious mental illness. As she went through the list, lengthy by any standards, Seven noticed that the Doctor stopped his examination, sighed, and put the tricorder away. He looked down at her and his face grew mischievous.

'Sit up, Seven,' he ordered. She did so, swinging her legs off the side of the bio-bed and looked at him, worried.

'Is it serious?'

'Well, it's a fairly common human disease,' said the Doctor. 'It ranges from trivial cases which only last for a few days, all the way to dangerous cases which can last for a lifetime.'

Seven's breath caught in her throat. 'What are its effects?'

The EMH started to walk around the room, seemingly unconcerned, and Seven trailed him all around sickbay. 'Well, it starts off with the symptoms you described, but if untended can either fade away quite quickly or linger.' Seven frowned. She had never heard of an illness quite like that before. 'If it does linger, then it's a serious case. There have been historical cases of people dying in the most serious extremes, but they're fairly rare.' He looked up at Seven and sighed. Despite her intelligence and abilities as a member of the crew, Seven was still extremely innocent and effectively immune to either hints or sarcasm.

'Seven, it's not really an illness. You're in love.' The EMH smiled. 'Well done! I didn't realise that you'd finally managed to progress that far.' 

Seven stopped dead in her tracks while the Doctor rambled on. That couldn't be right. Certainly she had never thought that way, but now she reviewed the events since Tom Paris' death in that light, they began to make sense. But - She realised that the Doctor had stopped speaking and was looking at her expectantly. 'Sorry?'

'I _said_, who's the lucky guy? I need to know because he might need counselling.' He beamed at her, but then dropped the smile at Seven's concerned face. 'What's the matter?'

Seven sat down heavily on a bio-bed. The Doctor sat beside her, concerned for his friend. 'Love isn't that bad a thing.'

'It might be,' whispered Seven. 'I think the "lucky person" is B'Elanna Torres.'

The Doctor sat quietly for a moment, and then fell off the edge of the bio-bed.

He picked himself up quickly, and saw that Seven had not moved. 'You're joking!' Her face told him she was not. 'You really pick your moments, Seven,' he said, but his heart was not in it. 'Why B'Elanna?' he asked quietly.

'I don't know,' she admitted. The EMH could see that her face was anguished. 'I first realised after Ensign Paris died that I had feelings for her, but I didn't realise how far they went. I thought I was genuinely ill.'

The Doctor sighed. It was sad that Seven was having to confront this now, and matters were complicated by the effect of her feelings toward someone who was, quite honestly, just about unattainable. 'How do you feel?'

'I feel the way I described to you if I see her,' answered Seven. 'I'm afraid it might affect my competence.'

'Possibly, but it's unlikely that it will–'

'The captain hasn't told you though. I've been reassigned to the _Enterprise_.'

The Doctor looked at her, stunned again. 'Why?'

'Admiral Picard feels he needs an advisor on the Borg, and he considers me to be the best choice.' Seven glanced up at him.

The Doctor had rarely seen true human emotion in Seven's eyes. For so long, her feelings had been covered by the coolness of the Borg, and it came as a genuine shock to him that now her eyes brimmed with tears and the conflicting emotions of loyalty, love and fear shone through so brightly. The Doctor was unsurprised by her admission to feelings of homosexual love. It was not a taboo subject in the Federation, despite still being uncommon, and Seven's lack of response to male suitors for so long could not simply be put down to lack of understanding of what was needed. What was a surprise was the object of Seven's affections. B'Elanna Torres made no secret about her dislike of the former drone, and coming so soon after Tom's death, those feelings would not be received at all well.

However, the fact that Seven had obviously impressed on her first encounter with human beings outside their own little group, especially the Grand Admiral of Starfleet himself, made the Doctor extremely proud of his protégé, for he had coached her in interaction skills since early in their voyage together.

'How do you feel about leaving _Voyager_?' asked the EMH gently.

'I'm happy in what I'm being asked to do,' said Seven slowly. 'But I'm scared of leaving, because I don't know what to do –' She broke off and stared at the floor.

The EMH sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. 'Seven, it's part of living.' Fine one he was to talk. 'Leaving your familiar surroundings, going out into the world – it's all part of growing up.' He glanced away at the walls. 'You've handled yourself well so far. Admiral Picard's obviously taken with you. Well done. I'm proud of you. I know you're going to be a success out there.'

'You think so?' asked Seven, her face clearing slightly.

'Absolutely.' The EMH stood and helped her up again. 'Remember, _Voyager _will be in the Fleet alongside the _Enterprise_, and I'll always be here for you, and so will Captain Janeway.'

'What about B'Elanna?'

The Doctor paused for a moment. 'We'll... cross that bridge when we come to it.'

Seven of Nine nodded. 'Thank you, Doctor. I'll go to the cargo hold and begin transferring my things to the _Enterprise_.' She turned and left.

The Doctor looked after her after the doors had closed and then heaved a sigh. She was behaving in exactly the way he had predicted. When Seven had first come aboard, he had drawn up a timetable of her emotional and mental growth. Although her mind and higher reasoning centres were those of an highly intelligent adult, her emotions and feelings when she had first been separated from the Collective had been those of a child. That was what Annika Hansen had been when she had been assimilated into the Collective. Her emotional level now corresponded with that of a fourteen or fifteen year old human. She was discovering love for the first time, although she had obviously settled on her sexual preferences. She was beginning to outgrow the confines of the structures she had lived in for such a long time, and fortunately the advent of the Fleet had enabled her to reach out to other people outside _Voyager_ for the first time in her life. Mentally and physically, she was a woman. Emotionally, she was a teenager.

He would really have to talk to the CMO of the _Enterprise_ about this.

'Who's the CMO now?' asked Picard, confused. 'I thought we'd promoted Lieutenant Ogawa to that position.'

'Yes, sir,' said Worf patiently. 'But she's complained that she is not up to the job because she is not a full doctor yet. In a few years, maybe, she says, but even then she would lack the experience.'

Picard nodded, realising that in his haste to encounter the Borg and his concentration on the matters of the Fleet, he had let standards on the _Enterprise_ slip disturbingly. They had operated without a full CMO for nearly three years now, and almost certainly there were other problems as well. Worf was a good officer, but he didn't have the sort of experience that the job required yet. 'Who is the most experienced CMO in the Fleet?'

'Sisko to Bashir.' Sisko's voice rang out over the comm, and Julian Bashir tapped his badge, looking up from his reading.

'Bashir here.'

'Doctor, can you report to the _Enterprise_ immediately?'

'Sir?' Bashir frowned in bemusement.

'Admiral Picard has requested that you be assigned as CMO on the _Enterprise_, effective immediate.' Bashir, now listening, detected the displeasure in Sisko's voice.

'Why wasn't I consulted?'

'That's why he's asking you to come to the _Enterprise_,' explained Sisko. 'He wants to speak to you about it.'

Bashir nodded, some of his indignation draining away. At least he wasn't being reassigned without being asked. 'I'll be there immediately.'

'Thank you, Doctor. Sisko out.'

'Enter,' said Picard's voice, and Bashir entered his ready room.

'You wished to see me, Admiral?' Picard nodded, and set down the padd he was reading.

'I assume Captain Sisko has informed you of what I wish,' he began.

'Yes, sir. I have to say that I am happy aboard the _Defiant_.'

Picard nodded. 'I would have thought so. Captain Sisko is an excellent officer, and the _Defiant_ herself is an excellent ship. You yourself have been the subject of glowing reports from Captain Sisko to both myself and Starfleet before the war.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Bashir modestly.

'That is why I want you on the _Enterprise_,' said Picard. 'The flagship needs the best officers. You are the best doctor in the Fleet.'

'Thank you,' said Bashir obstinately, 'but I don't want to move.'

Picard continued blithely as though he had not heard Bashir. 'And, of course, I would want to observe the progress of the next head of Starfleet Medical as closely as possible.'

Bashir stared at Picard for a moment. 'Me?'

'Your name was already mentioned in connection with the job, especially after your submission for the Carrington Award.'

'I – I –' Bashir was struck dumb. 'Have you already decided this?' he finally stuttered.

Picard shook his head. 'Yours is the foremost of four or five names, but you have first refusal. If you turn it down, it might be that I choose someone else. Incidentally, this post carries with it the rank of Commander.' Picard was lying of course; there was no-one else in the Fleet remotely qualified enough to take the post. Bashir was his only option, and Picard was determined to get him aboard the _Enterprise_. He had lost most of his best officers in the first onslaughts of the war, and he was damned if the crew of the flagship wasn't the best in the Fleet. He had an excellent tactical officer, a superb Ops officer, and a good helmsman, and he needed a new first officer and a new CMO. Sad to say, Worf, for all his qualities, simply wasn't up to the job of first officer.

It was at times like this that he missed Riker.

Bashir looked back at Picard. 'Is this an order?'

'Purely your decision,' said Picard. _I can order you later_, he added silently.

'Then I accept,' said Bashir unexpectedly. Picard blinked.

'Already?' he asked, surprised. Bashir frowned.

'If that is the way it must be, then I must accept,' said Bashir. 'It is the best decision both for myself and for some of my younger subordinates.'

Picard nodded immediately, not a man to look a gift horse in the mouth. 'When can you transfer across?'

'Give me a week to give my last instructions and transfer my data and experiments across to the _Enterprise_, and to get settled in here.'

Picard nodded, happy. 'Welcome to the _Enterprise_,' he said, standing up and shaking Bashir's hand.

'It's an honour,' replied Bashir. 'Do you want me to inform Captain Sisko?'

'If you please, Doctor,' said Picard, taking his seat again and picking up the padd. 'That way, you will be able to say your own goodbyes at your own time.'

'Thank you, Admiral.' Bashir hesitated. 'When will my role as Head of Starfleet Medical become active?'

'When the war is over. There isn't a Starfleet Medical to be head of yet,' said Picard wryly. 'However, I have no objections to your beginning the groundwork for the post.'

Bashir nodded, having already decided to do so anyway. 'Thank you, sir.'

Picard opened his mouth to speak – and froze, the padd in his hand clattering to the desktop. Bashir stared at him, before rushing around the desk to his side, doctor's instincts coming to the fore. 'Admiral!'

Picard stared into space....

__

'Scanners detect presence of Starfleet runabout Missouri _in grid 774 subsection 547. Pursued by Aralla vessels. Time to intercept, twelve hours, nine minutes. Orders?'_

Picard realised that he was hearing the voice of the Collective referring back to him for orders. And he realised what it meant. 'Data!'

Data had spotted the Aralla attack planes, thirty of them on advanced patrol, hours before. They had summoned a city destroyer that would intercept him in less than an hour now.

He was dead, unless another miracle like that Borg vessel materialised.

Deep in the Delta Quadrant, the _Missouri_ had had a relatively quiet journey so far after Odo's death and the destruction of the Borg Cube. Data had not deviated from his course or lessened his speed so far, but the Aralla been to all sides of him at all times. Sometimes, they had got in front of him, forcing him to change course, but that was technically impossible. The Aralla ships had not shown that they could top the _Missouri's_ best speed, but they had got past him and ahead of him several times. This presented a worrying possibility, but Data could not confirm this hypothesis without getting closer to the Aralla ships, which was not something he wished to do.

A blast of energy on his port bow shook him from his reverie, and Data stared in incredulous horror at the sight of an Aralla destroyer and a hundred attack planes, forming a wedge that swept before the huge ship, all blazing towards him. Their first salvo had missed, but their second would not.

If he stayed where he was. Data activated the port thrusters and swung onto a new course. The Aralla planes moved to intercept him, and he made another course change. The Aralla moved again, and cut him off. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and outmanoeuvred.

And Data was out of options. He was defeated; the Aralla had finally cornered him, and they would destroy him and the _Missouri_, and the information that he bore to the Fleet would die along with them.

He activated his weapons. Not without a f-

A huge roar shook the runabout, and Data stared up as a fleet of Borg Cubes swept overhead, firing into the Aralla fleet. The android counted twelve of the Cubes as they opened up their formation and fired again on the Aralla destroyer. He had been concentrating so hard on the Aralla that he hadn't even noticed the transwarp signature behind him.

The blasts of green energy slammed into the Aralla shields and elicited a wash of green protective power. Blue energy spat from the destroyer and blew a Borg Cube apart in the first salvo.

However, the Borg were not there to sacrifice themselves. Whilst they avoided the Aralla firepower, occasionally striking back, one headed for the _Missouri_ and ensnared it in a tractor beam. There wasn't even a hope of resisting, Data knew, and he shut the engines down.

The Cubes turned and fled into transwarp, fleeing from the Aralla.

The commander of the Aralla was pleased. The Borg had again withdrawn from combat against the Aralla. They had ensnared the human vessel, but that did not matter anymore. They would soon catch the human fleet unawares and destroy them, thanks to the innovation of the Borg.

He turned to look at the planet below the Aralla mother ship, and nodded for the attack to commence. The Aralla fleet was currently split, with each mother ship at a different location, all involved in separate attacks, making sure that there would be no alliances for their enemies. One race, calling themselves the Krenim, were using some form of interesting time-based weapon, whilst another, the Kazon had tried suicide attacks at the last.

Both races were now virtually extinct.

The commander nodded again. The war was going well.


	17. Departures And Arrivals

__

Chapter XVII

'_Aralla fleet sighted and engaged. Withdrew with one casualty. Starfleet runabout _Missouri_ recovered.'_

Picard slammed a fist on the desk before him in triumph, surprising Seven of Nine, who sat on the other side. 'Sorry,' he said, slightly embarrassed.

'It is no matter,' said Seven.

It was twelve hours since the Collective had spotted the USS _Missouri_ and Picard had sent a fleet of Cubes out to recover the _Missouri_ at any cost. They had lost a single Cube, but the objective had been achieved. And Picard had plenty more Cubes to play with –

He stopped his train of thought there. Seven had warned him of becoming too involved in the amount of power he controlled, and Picard himself also recognised the danger. The Queen had come to think of herself as invincible, and Picard was determined not to do the same. It would be dangerous.

And he had to remember the number of drones who had died to rescue Data, despite the fact that many in the Fleet might not see it that way. He had been like that once.

The _Enterprise_, three birds-of-prey, and a Romulan Warbird formed the reception committee for the Borg fleet over a large blue planet that reminded Picard too much of Earth. However, it was the closest point to thetaskforce that the _Enterprise_ commanded and their patrol route.

'The Cubes have recovered the runabout that I was telling you about earlier. We may have a valuable addition to the Fleet shortly.'

Seven nodded, her face non-committal. That particular expression had not really changed ever since she had come aboard the _Enterprise_. She had not yet fully transferred across, but Picard had requested that she come aboard. 'Sir,' she said, 'we were discussing the Borg modifications to the Fleet?'

Picard nodded, his face enthused. 'Yes, we were. I want the Borg to begin making modifications to the engines, weapons systems and shields of all the ships in the Fleet. Make the weapons more powerful, add transwarp drives to the engines, and add Borg technology to the shields.'

'That is wise,' said Seven, 'but I advise that the shields are left as they are.'

Picard frowned. 'Why?'

'The Borg, because they cannot learn by other than assimilation, are vulnerable to that which they cannot adapt to. For example, if they had not assimilated any Starfleet technology, they would still be very vulnerable to Starfleet weapons. The same is true for the Aralla, and since their weapons are more powerful than Starfleet's, with the city destroyers being able to destroy a Cube with a single shot, they alone could decimate the entire Borg fleet without a single casualty. If you incorporate Borg technology into the shields of every ship in the Fleet, the Aralla would do the same to them as well. However powerful your weapons might be, and no matter if we brought down their shields, the Aralla would still win.'

Picard nodded. What Seven said made sense. 'Why won't that mean the same for the weapons?'

'Borg weapons cannot penetrate their shields, the same as those of the Fleet. If the Aralla shields fail, Borg firepower will just as devastating as against any other vessel. Polymorphic materials, by their very nature, are weaker than those of conventional design. One reason that the Borg have not adopted them as hull materials for their ships, even though they have the capability.'

'Understood,' said Picard. 'I am glad that you are here to tell me this,' he added honestly.

'You do have the information anyway,' remarked Seven. 'Really, you don't need me to tell you anything that the Borg may or may not know.'

'Not so,' responded Picard, shaking his head. 'Although I can access that information, I don't know where to look, and I need time to locate it in the Collective. I need you to tell me what I might not know, where to find it, and also to give me the time to find it.'

Seven blinked, her expression becoming puzzled. 'I don't quite understand?' she said, tone questioning.

'I want you to be the Fleet liaison with the Borg.'

'Why?' asked Seven immediately. 'With respect, you don't need one –'

'I do, Seven,' said Picard. 'You need to be involved with the hard work and technicalities of implementing my orders in the Fleet.'

'The Borg don't need anything like that –' Seven broke off, realising where her train of thought was leading. 'But the Fleet does.'

'Exactly. The Fleet is still extremely distrusting of the Borg, and I don't blame them. Except for a few of the highest-ranking officers in the Fleet, nobody knows of my total assumption of the Borg Collective's leadership. I need someone to take all of the small, day-to-day decisions off my hands, and you are the best I can think of. You know the Borg, and you are human, and you know me. You're very unique, Seven of Nine.'

Seven smiled faintly. 'Sir, I cannot refuse. Thank you for trusting me.'

'Bridge to Admiral Picard!' Thames sounded concerned. 'Borg fleet approaching off port bow.'

Picard smiled again and stood, moving towards the door. 'On my way.'

He stepped out onto the bridge and took his chair, whilst Seven took the chair beside him. Worf turned to the Admiral as he sat down. 'Sir, I've taken the liberty of powering shields and weapons.'

Picard frowned at him, and then realised how tense the atmosphere was. Hedly gripped the console behind him tightly, Thames sat upright and very straight-shouldered, and Truper was tapping his fingers on the helm nervously. On the screen, the Klingons and Romulans were advancing ahead of the _Enterprise_, obviously to defend the flagship.

Picard shook his head in exasperation. 'Power down shields and weapons. Order the Klingons and Romulans to come back to holding positions.'

'Sir?' asked Worf incredulously. 'The Borg –'

'The Borg are our allies, Mr. Worf!' snapped Picard. 'Furthermore, they are under my direct command. They will not attack.'

Worf stared at Picard, and then turned to face the screen, muttering a Klingon phrase under his breath that Picard did not quite catch. 'Drop shields and power down weapons,' he said.

'Aye, sir,' said Hedly, who had obviously already done so. 'The _F'Ferisor_ is requesting confirmation of orders.'

'Confirm them,' said Worf. 'Order them to fall back to just off our port quarter.'

Picard smiled, recognising that the position that Worf had ordered the Warbird to would keep them in direct line of fire from the Borg ships, but he was prepared to let it go. However, he would have to work on the culture of fear that persisted in the Fleet regarding the Borg, understandable though it was.

The Warbirds and Birds of Prey turned back and surrounded the _Enterprise_ again, and at the same moment, the Borg fleet dropped out of warp on the port side of the taskforce.

Picard looked at them, worried. All of them bore heavy battle damage, some trailing sparks and flames still burning on huge hull breaches that rent the dark surfaces. Of the surviving eleven ships, the lightest damage appeared to be inflicted on the Cube nearest the front. This particular Cube had a thin beam of green light streaming away from it's hull, and encapsulated in the light was the tiny shape of a battered, scarred but recognisable, Starfleet runabout.

Picard leapt to his feet excitedly, all concerns for the Borg fleet evaporating. 'Signal the runabout!'

'They are hailing us, Admiral,' said Hedly, confused as to Picard's excitement. 'Audio only.'

'On speakers,' ordered Picard, and a blaze of static erupted over the speakers.

Everybody present winced reflexively, until Hedly managed to scrub out most of the static noise, and everybody heard a faint, but very familiar, voice. '_Missouri_ to _Enterprise_. This is Data.'

Stunned silence fell across the bridge at the android's voice, and even Picard, who had known what to expect, felt a thrill run through him at the sound of his long thought dead second officer's voice. 'Data, this is Admiral Picard. Are you alright?'

'Sir, the _Missouri_ is heavily damaged. The last battle we had before the Borg arrived took quite a bit out of her.'

'Admiral,' interrupted Worf, glancing down at the readout on his chair, 'we're reading a fluctuation in the warp engines of the _Missouri_.'

'Is the fluctuation dangerous?'

'There is no way to tell for certain, but it is extremely likely.' Picard nodded, and turned back to the screen.

'Data, I would assume that you know this already, but we've picked up an unusual fluctuation in the _Missouri's_ engines, but we can't tell if it might be dangerous. As a precaution, we're beaming you and Mr. Odo aboard and sending a repair team out to the _Missouri_. It doesn't look like it'll stand up to a tractor beam in its present condition.'

'Sir,' began Data, 'I will be the only one beaming aboard. Mr. Odo is –'

Thames called out, urgently, 'Sir, the fluctuation is getting larger. It's going to cause a warp core breach!'

'Energise!' snapped Picard at Hedly.

Picard looked at the screen, at the dark shape of the Borg. Suddenly, the tiny ship in its green grasp flared into light, blown apart in a micro-second by the merest contact of matter and anti-matter. He whipped around to face Hedly. 'Have you got them?'

Hedly stared at her console anxiously, and then raised her head, half-smiling. 'We got Captain Data, Admiral.' Picard nodded sadly, and looked back at the screen which showed the Borg tractor beam holding the wreckage of the devastated runabout fast in its grip still. Picard willed them to deactivate the beam, and it vanished, allowing the destroyed ship to float away into space.

Onboard that was the body of Odo, and maybe a host of information on the Aralla, and maybe the state of the Gamma Quadrant after their retreat. Still, they should be able to salvage something with Data's computerised memory.

'Tell Mr. Data to come to my ready room as soon as he can. And set course back to the Unicomplex at maximum warp.' He walked towards the ready room, head bowed.

The door slid aside, and Picard looked up into the face of his old friend. 'Data!'

Data's uniform was burnt and dirty, his hair mussed, and his face slightly blackened. If he had been human, he would have been diagnosed as suffering from exhaustion. But Picard knew his android friend far better than to let exterior appearances fool him. Data still smiled, and held out his hand, which Picard took and shook vigorously. 'It's good to see you again, Admiral,' he said.

'And the same to you,' replied Picard, indicating that Data should take a seat, which he did gratefully. Picard sat at the other side of the desk. There was a pause.

'Sir,' said Data eventually, 'I would be interested in knowing how you managed to get the Fleet all the way here.' He glanced at the window, to where the Borg Cubes could be seen cruising alongside. 'And how you seem to have gained the complete co-operation of the Collective.'

Picard quickly filled him in on the events of the last few weeks, enjoying the mixed reactions that greeted each piece of news, and leaving very little out. The only major piece of information that he passed over were the exact details of the defeat of the Borg Queen, and the precise nature of his relationship with the Collective. He saw that Data had noted this, but had also resolved to let that be.

Picard was glad. Data was, as yet, an unknown quantity, despite the long friendship they had. As yet, Picard did not know what had happened on the android's odyssey, and intended to press him about that.

'If you want any more information, then it's all in a full report. You can read it after this debriefing,' Picard concluded, glancing at the android for comment.

'An intriguing tale,' said Data, making Picard wonder what exactly he meant by that. Data glanced at the floor. 'Admiral, I wish to apologise for my actions after Captain Riker's death.'

'Your actions?' asked Picard, befuddled. Data nodded.

'My cowardice, my departure from the Fleet.' Data sighed. 'I never even asked myself why I did it.'

'Why did you do it?' asked Picard quietly. He had never been angry at Data over his departure from the Fleet.

'Sir, Captain Riker died very unexpectedly, during our battle with the Jem'Hadar shortly after the defeat at _DS9_,' began Data. Picard winced slightly at the recollection of those two battles which had driven them first from the Alpha Quadrant and then from the Gamma Quadrant. 'I remember, after the hit the _Enterprise_ took, that I looked at his eyes as he lay on the deck.' Data frowned at Picard, his eyes saddened, and his face perturbed. 'There is a phrase – "apprehensions of mortality." I have never had that; I have never confronted the possibility of my death, or the fact that I will one day shut down forever.' Data made a conscientious correction. 'At least, not before I gained emotions.'

Picard nodded silently, understanding Data's problem. Data continued, 'I suddenly realised that so many people had died whom I felt were indestructible. Counsellor Troi, Doctor Crusher, Captain Riker – so many.'

Picard shivered at the melancholy in the android's hollow voice. 'I thought we were indestructible as well, Data. It comes from going through so much together, and always coming out on the other side.'

'It wasn't as if we hadn't confronted death before,' Data went on. 'Tasha died a long time ago.'

'You didn't have emotions then.'

'No, true,' agreed Data. 'But so much death in so little time – I finally began to feel it might be me next. I was terrified!' His voice was angry now – Picard took it to be self-loathing.

'We were all scared –'

'No, not like that!'

'Damn it, yes, we were!' shouted Picard, suddenly angry. 'I went through every night after Beverly's death wanting only to hide in a corner! But I came out, and I fought the Aralla as hard as I could! I turned my fear and anger into something useful, and I used it to fight back! And I know that you're capable of doing that as well!' Picard suddenly realised that he was stood up, and yelling at Data, who sat in stunned silence before him, looking cowed. Picard sat down, slightly embarrassed.

'Data,' he began again quietly, 'everybody in this Fleet has lost somebody. Captain Sisko, for example, lost his entire family at _DS9_. We have all lost something or someone, Data, and much as it pains me to say this, both to you and myself, our case is not unique.'

Data stared sadly at Picard. 'Thank you, Admiral, for your understanding.' he said at last. 'Nevertheless, my actions in leaving the Fleet _in a moment of crisis_ ' - He emphasised the last to forestall Picard's protest - 'are not those of a Starfleet officer, and certainly not ones that I could forgive in any officer. I would not expect you to do the same in my case. Thus, I ask that you allow me to rejoin the _Enterprise_ crew as Ops officer, in my old role and my old rank of Lieutenant. A three grade demotion, I believe, is adequate for desertion.'

Picard stared at the sober look on Data's face. A _three-grade_ demotion would be severe for anything less than theft from a Starfleet vessel or a Starfleet officer's quarters, which would be accompanied by court-martial for the offending officer, and imprisonment anyway. Desertion, in any circumstances, did not merit that. 'Data, I won't do that. You are very new to the world of emotion. I cannot yet expect you to understand the amount of heartache and pain that it takes a human to overcome such despair or depression as you have obviously suffered. In all honesty,' he added with a grin, 'I never deactivated your commission. I simply logged you as taking the leave that you were entitled to. More than ten years in Starfleet, and you did not take a single day's leave. It does accumulate, you know.' Picard smiled, and dropped four glittering objects onto the desk from where he had concealed them in his hand. Data stared mutely at them, and picked one up in his hand, cradling it as though it were the most precious thing in the world, which, in a sense, they were.

The four pips of captaincy. Data lined them all up in his palm, and looked at Picard. And smiled. 'You sly –' He broke off, voice choked.

Picard beamed innocently at him. 'You will serve as my first officer here, on the _Enterprise_. The war needs someone with great experience on the flagship.' Picard dropped the smile. 'There is another thing.'

'Sir?'

'Mr. Odo?'

Data stared into space, smile vanishing. 'We encountered the Aralla fleet several times, sir,' he said. Picard frowned, thoughts of the security chief of _Deep Space Nine_ receding.

'How much of it?'

'All of it,' said Data, and his words stunned Picard. 'We were captured and brought aboard the lead mother ship,' he added.

'My god, Data,' hissed Picard. 'When?'

'Early in our voyage.' Data proceeded to inform Picard of his and Odo's long trek from the wormhole to their last encounter with the Borg fleet. Picard sat and listened, enthralled.

'Odo was killed in one of our last fights against the Aralla,' said Data towards the end of his monologue. 'A Borg Cube - I assume it was your handiwork, sir - appeared out of nowhere, and attacked the Aralla fleet, allowing us time and cover to escape. However, we hit a stray beam of Aralla fire, and Odo was killed when a console exploded.'

Picard had frowned at the mention of the Cube. 'A Cube, you say?' Data nodded. 'How long did it stand up to the pounding?'

'Less than a minute, sir. The city destroyers and mother ships never came within range. The attack planes ripped it apart.'

Picard eyes widened, and he slumped a little in his seat. 'I knew that the Borg were not capable of defeating the Aralla, but to know that they are this weak is unbelievable.'

'Sir, the Borg were once the invincibles,' said Data quietly. 'Now, we know they can be beaten.'

'Your point?'

'It is the same for the Aralla.'

Picard frowned at the android. 'Data, if you have something to say, just say it.'

Data straightened, and hit Picard with the ultimate bombshell. 'Admiral, I think I know how to defeat the Aralla.'

Picard stared silently at Data for a long moment, and Data waited for his commander's response. 'Elaborate,' murmured Picard eventually. 'I don't want to get excited until I know what you're proposing.'

Data nodded, understanding. 'I will have to give you part of the background story first, sir, otherwise what I say may not make sense.' Picard nodded, and Data proceeded to tell, in more detail, the story of his and Odo's short captivity aboard the Aralla mother ship. About how the architecture and docking configurations within the Aralla mother ship gave significant clues as to their psychological makeup. About how their organisational tendencies also gave rise to speculation over their network of command.

Data took him through the story of their escape, what he and the changeling had seen there with their own eyes, and also what he had recorded on sensors. He then outlined his theories regarding the origin of the Aralla technology, their polymorphic ships, and all of his hypotheses regarding everything he knew about the Aralla.

'Sir,' he said, 'the Aralla are, like the Borg, a very centralised network of individuals and groups. However, they are not totally linked at all times. They retain an element of individuality in their structures, which gives their fighter squadrons such power and flexibility. They are organised into groups of three, which are commanded by a single mind. That's why they can afford such losses.' Data leaned closer. 'And that is their weakness.'

'Explain,' said Picard.

He leaned closer. 'The Aralla command structure is an essentially simple structure. A fighter, alone, is the local command centre. If attached to a squadron, then that becomes the local command. And so on, all the way up to the mother ships.'

Picard shrugged. 'That is the same as our own command structure.'

Data shook his head. 'With one important difference. If the command centre is destroyed in our structure, the next ship and commander along take overall command. However, if that happens in the Aralla structure, then the entire fleet falls apart. They cannot handle such a huge disruption in communications.'

'If we destroy the Aralla mother ship, then, you're saying that will knock out the entire Aralla fleet.'

'We would need to destroy all five mother ships, but I believe that if we did so, that would either knock out or disorient the other ships so that we can destroy them as well. And if their shields are gone, that is a fairly simple task. Their hulls are relatively weak.'

Picard nodded. 'However, this is all simply theory.'

'Yes, sir,' said Data. 'But I will be able to prove it though. If I can get a ship close enough to the Aralla mother ships, I will determine whether or not there is a central computer network. If so, then I believe that we can assume that I am correct.'

Picard frowned. 'Isn't that just arrogance?'

Data did not appear perturbed by the hostile question. 'I know that it would seem so –'

'How would you intend to bring the shields down?'

Data blinked. 'The invasive program, of course.'

'I mean, how do you intend to get that onboard the mother ship?'

'Transmit it –' Data stopped. 'Ah, I see your point. The last time we tried that –'

'Bajor was destroyed,' agreed Picard. He paused for a moment, and then said, 'I have an idea.'

'Sir?'

Picard stood and looked out of the window, as he did when he was thinking. 'The Collective has information on the Aralla, information that we are not privy to. Or, more accurately, privy to _yet_. I need to start digging, see what the Borg can tell us about our enemy.'

'The Borg, sir?' asked Data, mystified.

'Yes,' said Picard, and then saw Data's face. 'I'll fill you in when you get back.'

'Get back?' asked Data, now thoroughly lost.

'Yes,' said Picard with a smile. 'You and Mr. Worf are going on a little mission for me.'

'Understood. What mission?'

'Our objectives are to get into the mother ship, plant the virus, and get out quickly. A Starfleet runabout would be destroyed on encounter, and so would any other Fleet ship. What we need is an Aralla attack fighter.'

Data smiled suddenly, realising what Picard meant. The Admiral continued, 'You and Mr. Worf will board the lead mother ship, locate and capture a fighter, and return to the Fleet.'

Data nodded. 'Understood. Why Worf?'

'Worf is the best combat officer I know. His experience of both armed and unarmed combat will prove most useful. Plus, you work well together.'

Data nodded again. 'I agree. I will need a few other things. The USS _Voyager _for a start.'

'_Voyager_?' It was Picard's turn to look puzzled. 'Why?'

'In terms of sneaking up on the Aralla in the _Enterprise_?'

'Point taken.'

'I know the Aralla sensor net well, now. They have a very short range, for they rely upon their fighters for scouting and protection. Their long-range sensors are not particularly efficient, and a ship the size of the _Voyager_ ought to get through. We only need to get into transporter range. The Aralla do not know of transporters.'

'Excellent choice,' said Picard. 'And, you couldn't know, but _Voyager_ is one of the first ships to be outfitted with transwarp drive and certain Borg modifications. She will be ready for deployment in four days. I want you to do one last thing.'

'Sir?'

'I want you to inform Captain Sisko of the death of Mr. Odo, Data.'

Data straightened, his face worried. 'Sir, I –'

'That's an order, Captain,' said Picard firmly. Data nodded once, sharply. 'While you're there,' added Picard, 'ask Captain Sisko to come to the _Enterprise_. I have a present for him.' He smiled enigmatically. Data ignored this.

'Is that all?' he asked.

'Yes, Captain,' said Picard. 'I expect you prepare for the mission and be ready in four days. Report to me when your preparations. By then, I hope to have gained some useful information from the Borg about the Aralla which may help you.'

Data nodded, knowing that Picard's mind was made up, and that there was nothing more that he could add. 'Permission to leave, sir?'

'Yes, Captain,' replied Picard. Data turned and made his way to the door. As he stepped through, Picard called, 'Data?'

'Yes, Admiral?' said the android, turning.

'Welcome back. I missed you.'

Data paused for a moment, and then nodded. 'Thank you, sir.'

He left, and Picard stared at the closed door for the moment. Then, he said to himself, 'We've all changed.'

He pressed a button on his desk. 'Seven of Nine, can you come to my ready room please?'

'Yes, Admiral' said her voice.

A few seconds later, the door hissed open and Seven stepped in, looking her usual cool self. 'You wanted to see me, sir?'

'I need to access the Borg archives, Seven,' said Picard, 'and you're going to help me.'

'My help, sir?' queried Seven.

'I've not done much delving into the Collective, other than that necessary to give orders and look at situations from a single drone's point of view. I doubt that I will have the time to explore some of the most esoteric aspects of the Collective.'

Seven filed away this odd reference into the back of her mind, and looked at Picard. 'The only times I was able to access the Collective's archives, sir, was when I was directly connected via my regeneration alcove.'

'You, Seven, were a drone,' Picard reminded her gently. 'I _am _the Collective. It is mine, and I can access any part of it at any time.' He stopped, and shook his head. 'It's happening again.'

'Sir?'

Picard smiled at her. 'One of the reasons that the Borg Queen lost. She forgot that she could be defeated.' When Seven's face did not change, Picard shook his head. 'Ask Captain Janeway. I think she guessed.'

'Sir.' Seven thought for a moment. 'If you are permanently connected into the Collective, sir, it's merely a case of knowing how to find what you are looking for. I am quite capable of doing that.'

Picard sat down. 'Let's begin.'

The _Defiant_ was at rest near the Unicomplex, having several modifications made to its weapons and engines by the Borg, in preparation for the installation of transwarp engines.

'Sir?' Ben Sisko looked up at Dax, from his position at one of the weapons consoles, overseeing some modifications to the weapons.

'What is it?'

Dax looked at him for a moment. 'Captain Data's just beamed aboard from the _Enterprise_. He would like to speak with you and Major Kira.'

Kira, who was stood at the next console along, glanced at Dax. 'Wasn't Odo with him?' she asked, pre-empting Sisko's next question.

Dax shook her head. 'Apparently not.' Her gaze was concerned, and Kira felt her insides give a lurch. She had been extremely worried about Odo throughout his absence, and this news that he had not returned with Captain Data was an even bigger concern.

'Send him up to the bridge, Old Man,' said Sisko, his voice quiet. Kira glanced at her friend, noting that his demeanour had grown darker since they had encountered the Borg. These modifications were certainly taking a toll on his temper.

Dax nodded and moved to the helm. 'Transporter room, ask Captain Data to come to the bridge.

'All right everyone!' said Sisko, loudly. 'I want you all off the bridge for the next hour.'

Dax gaped at him. 'Sir?'

'That's an order,' said Sisko, facing the Trill. Dax stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded. The bridge cleared, leaving Kira and Sisko stood alone. A moment passed, during which Sisko merely stared into space, and Kira waited, her body tense.

Data appeared in the aft turbolift, looking apprehensive, or at least as apprehensive as an android can get. Sisko turned to face him, and said, 'Captain Data, it's nice to see you again.' His greeting contained no warmth, and Data responded oddly.

He cocked his head slightly to one side, and abruptly his face became impassive, smooth and clear as a pond on a calm summer's day. 'Thank you, sir,' he said, and Kira realised exactly what had happened.

Data had turned off his emotion chip. What had made him do that? 'I have some bad news to report, sir, regarding Security Chief Odo.' He glanced away for a second, and then said, 'I regret to inform you that Odo was killed during a skirmish with the Aralla fleet several months ago.'

Sisko closed his eyes in pain, whilst Kira pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing a gasp of horror.

'How did it happen, Captain?' asked Sisko quietly, his eyes not opening. 

'During the skirmish, I accidentally piloted the _Missouri_ directly into the path of a stray beam of Aralla fire. The beam overloaded the shields, and blew out several consoles, one of which Odo was touching. He lost bodily integrity rapidly, and died within a minute.'

Sisko put a hand to his brow, and nodded. 'Thank you for telling us, Captain.'

'Captain Sisko,' Data said, 'Admiral Picard requested your presence aboard the _Enterprise_.'

Sisko nodded, turned silently, and left the bridge. Data looked at Kira for a moment. 'Major,' he said hesitantly.

Kira had sat down at the console, her face slack with the shock. After a moment, she glanced up at Data, and said, 'Sorry, Captain?'

'Major, before Odo died, he wished for me to tell you something.'

'Yes, go ahead,' she said, her voice pained.

'Major, Odo's exact last words were, "Tell Major Kira that I love her."'

Kira stared up at Data, her heart racing, unable to comprehend the new wave of rage and sorrow and pain that broke along the shores of her consciousness. She had only just come to terms with the loss of her home, her friends, and her lover, Shakaar, and now to be hit with the news of Odo's death, her best friend – there was no way to describe the devastation that she now felt. And to be told that he loved her -

She turned away from Data, hiding the pain, and said, in a tortured voice, 'Please, leave. Now.'

Data, behind her back, nodded silently and left the _Defiant_, a silent ship.

Bashir glanced on last time around the medical bay of the _Defiant_, and nodded sadly to himself. Although the facilities aboard the small ship had been primitive for a Starfleet vessel, he had come to think of it as a second home, especially during these long years of exile from the Federation.

And now, he had cleared all of his equipment out of it, to his new sickbay, and his new ship, the _Enterprise_, comprising a medical staff and research facilities far beyond anything he had had since his days aboard _Deep Space Nine_. And in some areas, particularly the competencies of his new medical staff, they were far superior to anything he had ever had before.

However, he was still filled with doubt and foreboding, much of it concentrated in the small figure stood beside him, his intern, Yevlin Meris. Although the young woman was now easily experienced enough to take over as chief nurse, and certainly competent enough to deal with all the common battle injuries that could crop up, she was by no means ready to be the CMO of a starship.

However, needs must.... There simply weren't enough trained doctors to go around. Most of the best were Starfleet officers, for many of the other major races, excepting the Cardassians and the Romulans, medical care seemed to be an option, rather than a necessity. Ferengi expected to pay for it, and many of their foremost experts had been killed on Ferenginar. It was a rarity for a _D'Kora_-class vessel to carry a doctor onboard, because they were so expensive. Klingons simply didn't care.

Bashir turned to Meris. 'Well, that's about it?'

Meris nodded. 'Yes, sir. The last of your equipment's been shifted aboard the _Enterprise_.'

Bashir nodded. 'I just wanted to thank you for all the hard work you've done, Meris,' he said, calling her by her first name. 'It's been a hard few years, but I think that you are ready to take over the reins here.'

Meris smiled. 'Thank you, sir. It's been a pleasure.' Her face dropped somewhat. 'Why are you going to the _Enterprise_?' she asked, her question going right to Bashir's heart.

Bashir paused, his mind racing. Why was she asking? The question was one of the simple, direct questions that Meris had proven uncannily good at asking – hard to avoid, hard to answer. He opted for honesty. He owed her that. 'I don't know, Meris. Admiral Picard asked me to do so, and it's not intelligent to turn down an invitation from the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet, especially not an invitation as auspicious as that one. The _Enterprise _is the prime berth of the Starfleet, the best opportunity any Starfleet officer could have. It's an honour to be working there. But, I'm very sad to be leaving here. The _Defiant _is a fine ship, and has a fine crew.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that, Julian,' said Dax's voice from the door. He turned to see the Trill looking at him with her usual amused expression, but one that was tinged with sadness, it seemed to Bashir.

'Thank you, Jadzia,' said Bashir with a smile. He turned back to Meris. 'Can I have a word with Jadzia alone, please?' he said.

'Actually,' said Dax, stopping Yevlin before she could reply, 'You might as well both hear this.' She glanced at both of them before continuing. 'Captain Sisko just told me that the Constable was killed in the Delta Quadrant earlier this year.'

Bashir swore, and Meris bowed her head. The doctor turned away and rested his hands on the console. 'How did it happen?'

'It was an Aralla attack, apparently,' replied Dax. 'His runabout was caught in a beam of Aralla fire. If it's any comfort, he died quickly.'

'Cold comfort,' muttered Bashir, angry and upset. Odo had been a good man, and it hurt to lose your friends. Especially when you weren't there to help them.

Meris glanced at Bashir's angry face, and slipped out of the room quickly, allowing Dax to approach him. 'Julian, we're all upset by Odo's death,' she began, but Bashir glanced at her, and shook his head.

'Terrible as it may sound,' he said, 'although Odo's death was a big shock, I gave him up for lost a long time ago.'

Dax frowned at him. 'Why?'

'We'd lost so much,' said Bashir quietly. 'I've been fairly lucky throughout this war. It sometimes seems that alongside people like the Captain, or Miles, or even Admiral Picard, I've barely lost anything, except my job aboard _DS9_. When it came to losing something that I felt close to, like one of my friends -' Bashir took a deep breath, and Jadzia Dax saw the sadness in his eyes. 'When Miles died, I felt as if a huge part of my soul had been torn out. I've never known that feeling before.'

Dax nodded sadly, but stayed silent. Bashir continued, 'I tried to do what I could for others around me, trying to keep away from my own grief, but I finally decided there was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, I realised that more like this would happen – the _Defiant _is a front-line battleship. And Odo's leaving the Fleet felt like a death sentence to me – there was no way they could survive undefended in-between the advancing Aralla and the Jem'Hadar. I gave him and Captain Data up for dead – and forgot them.' Bashir looked at Dax with eyes that pleaded with her to understand. 'Do you understand?' he asked, giving voice to the unspoken message his eyes conveyed.

Dax nodded. 'I sometimes feel like that,' she said quietly. 'But I've been through a lot in my lives, and I've lost a lot, and I've never known anything like this. Such a fast and irresistible defeat and being pushed back so far –' She looked at him, with her eyes that held the wisdom of age within the body of a young woman. 'It affects everybody in different ways, and I know that you know that there is no one way of dealing with sadness. My advice is, if it works for you, then stick with it.'

Dax turned to go, and then faced Bashir again when the doctor said, 'Jadzia, wait!' Bashir glanced at the floor. 'There's one other thing. I have to tell people now – I've been putting it off.' He looked straight at her. 'I'm being reassigned to the _Enterprise_, and being made CMO there. I'm also being made head of what's left of Starfleet Medical.'

Dax appeared stunned for a second, and then her face broke into a delighted smile that shattered the cloud of darkness that had settled over her face after their conversation. She rushed forward and hugged him.

'That's wonderful news!' she said, when she broke the embrace and stepped back, and Bashir gained the impression that he had often received from her. That of a proud mother. 'When?'

'I've already cleared out my things to my new quarters, and I officially transfer tomorrow.' Dax smiled again, genuinely pleased for him.

'Julian, I'm so pleased for you – I haven't the words to express it.'

Bashir felt the cloud of depression lift slightly, as it always did when Dax was happy around him. She had the amazing facility to transmit her feelings to others, and Bashir always felt uplifted in her presence anyway. He smiled, and Dax beamed back at him.

Bashir had a feeling that she had accomplished her mission.

Sisko knocked on the door of Picard's ready room, and stepped in almost before the voice within said, 'Come.'

Sisko stepped through to see Picard picking up a padd from the desk before him, and then stepping around the desk to hand it to him. 'You requested my presence, sir?' said the captain of the _Defiant_, barely keeping the snarl out of his voice, ignoring the padd.

Picard nodded, and motioned to the padd Sisko held. 'Your new assignment,' he said, saying no more.

Sisko was about to nod and leave when he realised that the commander of the Fleet would not give you new orders by summoning you to his office unless those orders were something special. He looked at the padd closely, and then looked back at Picard, stunned.

'Sir?'

Picard nodded, and smiled at him. 'Congratulations, Captain.'

Sisko looked at his orders again, and read through them properly. He and the _Defiant _would lead a massive group of ships, numbering nearly nine hundred, known as Battlegroup Alpha. Sisko shook his head at the sheer size of the force, which included nearly three hundred Starfleet vessels of all designs and configurations. There was a good mix of Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian and Ferengi ships as well, but Sisko's experienced eye picked up the fact that his group tended to be weighted towards the speedier ships in the Fleet.

Sisko looked up at Picard, stunned into silence by the enormity of the plan. Picard had taken his seat again, and he said, 'The Fleet is being reorganised, Ben. In co-operation with the other fleet leaders, we've drawn up this plan. Six Battlegroups, each led by one of the fleet commanders. You have Battlegroup Alpha, General Martok leads Battlegroup Beta, Admiral Jaled Gamma, Daimon Kreal Delta and Gul Dukat Epsilon. Each of them ranges from between nine hundred and a thousand.'

Sisko cocked his head slightly. 'What's the sixth?'

'Battlegroup _Enterprise_, under my command. That is the _Enterprise's _personal defence squadron, four Romulan Warbirds, three _Vor'Cha_ Attack Cruisers, and eight _Galor_-class starships, as well as three squadrons of Klingon Birds of Prey.' Picard abruptly turned away, and gazed out of the window into space. 'It's nearly time, Captain,' he said quietly.

'Time for what?' asked Sisko, his tone hostile. Picard turned and frowned at him. Sisko put the padd gently onto the desk, and said, 'This is the time, _now_.'

Picard continued frowning, and said, 'What are you talking about?'

'This,' said Sisko, jabbing a finger at the padd, 'is what I am talking about. I am the second in command of this Fleet, am I not?' At Picard's puzzled nod, he continued, 'I am to take over from you if you fall in battle? I am expected to lead this Fleet that _you_ have created, _you_ have spearheaded, that _you_ have led for so long, if you die? How, exactly? I have been locked out, frozen out, not even consulted at any level about the direction and future of this Fleet, and what we shall do after the war, but you have consulted with Martok, Dukat and the others and you expect me to _lead_?' The last few words came out in a rush, leaving Sisko breathless and angry, but glad that he had finally said what was on his mind. He took a few gulps of air, and then continued, slightly more composed. 'I am sick and tired of the silence and lack of consultation that I am receiving,' he said quietly. 'I am isolated and marginalised, sat aboard the _Defiant_, awaiting orders that –' He broke off as he saw Picard's grin. 'What are you smiling about?'

'This is exactly the way I knew that you would react, Ben,' said Picard, mirth in his tone.

'With respect, sir, I don't see what's so funny,' said Sisko, nonplussed.

'The last two years, fleeing from the Aralla, have been bad ones for the Fleet,' said Picard, obviously beginning one of his speeches. It sometimes seemed that he had a bottomless source prepared for special occasions, Sisko reflected sourly. 'It has only been recently that I have begun to see the error of my ways,' the Admiral continued. 'I was attempting to preserve the distinctions, the differences, and the comforting, familiar rivalries that we had grown used to before the war. I now realise that this was a serious mistake.'

Picard stood, and looked from the window again. Sisko sometimes wondered exactly what he was looking at. 'Let me give you a bit of recent history, Captain, some that you will not have been privy to.' Picard took a deep breath. 'When we met Captain Janeway and the _Voyager_, I was stuck in a rut of my own making. I had become obsessed with two things; finding the Borg, and destroying the Aralla. I could not see that what I was doing was making a bad situation worse. The Fleet was weak, unstructured, demoralised. We had come through several bad defeats without seeming to take a significant step in the right direction towards winning this war. I was providing no leadership, and I realise now, with horror, just how close we were to fragmenting. Captain Janeway changed a lot for me.'

'How, sir?' asked Sisko, interested despite himself. He sat down.

'After Ensign Paris, I believe, died in the encounter with the Borg Sphere, she came and spoke to me, and she forced me to see something -–I had been the one driving the Fleet towards the rocks. I had lost objectivity - although that is not difficult in this situation – and my hatred for what I perceived the Aralla had done to me was clouding my judgement. Intentionally or not, Captain Janeway assisted me to see that. I had already taken steps, with the other leaders of the Fleet, to combat that, but that encounter made me realise that the problems were of my own devising.'

'Sir, I'm not quite following you,' said Sisko. 'I can't see how you have come to this conclusion. And I can't quite see what this has to do with me,' he added.

'In a moment, Captain,' said Picard. 'However, to answer your other question, I came to this conclusion when I told Captain Janeway that _I_ was Starfleet – and I suddenly thought that was what all of the Commander-in-Chief's of Starfleet had always sought to avoid – a dictator in charge of Starfleet. At that moment, I realised that I was what the Federation knew, and had always known, would be it's death sentence – loss of flexibility, and one mind and personality driving it on, for better or for worse. This was reinforced by my review of an action that Admiral Jaled took. He had been elected Praetor of the Romulan Empire, and his first action was to pass this to me, reasoning that he was a military man, and thus unsuited for the role. I have also done some thinking, and I realise that it is the same for me – I am now a soldier. Once, I might have been able to fulfil these roles, but no longer. I am a soldier, and must remain so.' Picard sighed and looked at Sisko over his shoulder. 'Do you understand?'

'I think so,' said Sisko, who was having a slight information overload.

'Good.' Picard looked at the stars again. 'To continue, once I realised all of this, I knew that there were steps that needed to be taken. The first was to try and purge myself of my hatred of the Aralla – and that again can be attributed to _Voyager's_ crew. Seven of Nine, the Borg drone – do you know her?' At Sisko's shake of his head, Picard smiled slightly.

'You should get to know her – it's an entertaining experience. She provided me with information that the Borg had attacked the Aralla and their home dimension a long time ago, forcing them from their planets. The Aralla are invulnerable to assimilation, but a strike on the Aralla homeworld resulted in the enforced move of the entire Aralla Empire's population into their mother ships – nearly four hundred.'

Sisko gasped. 'How come there are only five here?' he asked, mind reeling at the sheer enormity of the revelation. Four hundred Aralla mother ships!

Picard shrugged. 'I don't know. I believe it is because we managed to close the dimensional rift before too many could get through. However, I am not here to give you a lecture on Aralla history. I will present a full report to the Fleet commanders shortly, giving my sources.

'I realised that the Aralla were only doing what any sentient race would do – what, in fact, we are doing now: trying to survive. This is their way, but we have a different way. Because of their perceived betrayal, the Aralla have come to think of all other races as vermin, and therefore, we cannot reason with them. They simply consider us beneath them. And that helped ease my hatred of them, allowing me some measure of objectivity. Once I achieved that, I began to see my mistakes. Once I began to see my mistakes, I could rectify them. And thus, I began to see my biggest mistake.'

'That was?'

'The concentration of power. I forgot that I was only a man, only recently promoted from Starfleet captain to Grand Admiral. I began to take all of the problems of the Fleet onto my shoulders, forgetting that there were others to help me. I now know that I cannot do this any longer. Thus, my diversification of the Fleet. I have begun to trust the other races more – I cannot hide from the fact that I did not trust Dukat, Martok, Jaled or Kreal until I tried to know them better. I realised that each of them, in his own way, was a good man, and also a very capable leader in his own right. As are you, Ben.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Sisko.

'There is another part to this story, Captain,' said Picard, 'but you are not yet ready to hear it. I shall notify you when the time comes.'

Sisko nodded curtly. 'When should I take command of Battlegroup Alpha?' he said, before he realised that his original question had gone unanswered.

Picard turned and smiled at him. 'I know I haven't answered you,' he said, answering the unspoken question instead. 'Rest assured, I will. As to Battlegroup Alpha,' he added offhandedly, 'take command immediately. Dismissed.'

Sisko nodded. 'Thank you, sir,' he said. He turned, and left the room.

As the door hissed shut, Picard glanced down at the padd he had been working on before Sisko had come in. Yes, there was another side to the story, and only he knew it.

A new dawn was approaching, and Sisko would be at the forefront. Even if he didn't know it yet.

Seven glanced around Astrometrics one last time, sadly reflecting on the importance that this place had played in both hers and _Voyager's_ lives. And now, she was leaving it behind.

Her regenerative alcove had been relocated to the _Enterprise_, as well as her few personal belongings. Now, all that remained was to disembark _Voyager_.

She sighed, turned, and left.

As she walked slowly down the corridor, lost in her own thoughts, she realised that the corridors had grown quieter and more deserted. She turned around, looking over her shoulder suddenly realising that she had not seen anyone walking down the corridor for the last five minutes.

At that moment, the lights went out.

Seven frowned in the darkness, her trepidation over her move forgotten. Tapping her badge, she said, 'Seven to bridge.' 

There was no response. 'Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway.'

'Seven of Nine to Commander Chakotay.'

'Seven of Nine to anyone?'

More than a little worried, Seven began walking faster. She had been heading for transporter room two, and that was directly opposite the nearest turbolift. She continued on that direction, confident that the problem would be solved quickly.

She turned the corner –

And stopped dead, shocked. The lights came on abruptly.

A huge banner hung across the ceiling of the corridor, bearing the words, "Seven of Nine". Clustered before her were the senior crew of _Voyager_ – Janeway, Chakotay, Torres, the Doctor, Kim and Tuvok. As well as them, Neelix, Ensign Wildman and Naomi Wildman were present.

Seven took in all of this in a state of disbelief. The others all clustered around her, smiling and congratulating her.

Slowly, Seven came to realise that the reason for all of this was what was known as a farewell party. The Doctor had evidently noticed her worried face, as he came to her and asked what was wrong.

'All of this,' stuttered Seven in reply. 'I didn't expect –'

'This?' interrupted the EMH, one of his annoying habits. 'I know, but that's the point. Sorry about the lights by the way – one of Ensign Kim's more melodramatic moments.'

'No –' began Seven, and then stopped and drew the EMH aside slightly and spoke softly. 'No, I mean the entire idea of a send-off, I think the word is.'

The Doctor was impressed. Seven was actually starting to use idioms of speech as opposed to her normal strict and formal style of speaking. 'Oh, I see,' he said, forgetting the analysis for the moment. He really would have to have a word with the CMO aboard the _Enterprise_. 'Well, Seven, you've proved yourself to be a valuable member of this crew. I know that Captain Janeway thinks of this crew as a family, and she's letting one of that family go out on her own. And she has taken an extra special interest in you from an early point.'

Seven nodded slowly. 'I am beginning to see. This is a celebration of the fact that I am leaving.'

'No!' The Doctor cringed slightly at the force of his protest which had drawn a few glances. He lowered his voice. 'What I mean is it's more a celebration of your being a member of this crew, and what you've brought to our lives. The interaction of individuals enriches life for humans, Seven, and you've done that for all of us. Me included.'

Seven nodded again, beginning to understand. She glanced around at all the expectant happy faces, and her gaze fell upon B'Elanna Torres. The other woman's face was making a brave attempt to be upbeat, but every so often – it was so easy to tell – she would drop back into her depression. Seven felt her heart ache for the other, but she also knew well enough that some things were never to be.

She bowed her head slightly, and turned to face Janeway, who had an expectant look on her face. 'Captain, thank you,' she said.

Janeway smiled. 'I know we've had our disagreements in the past, Seven, but I just wanted you to know that I'm very proud of you, and what you've achieved. I'm glad that you proved me right.'

Seven frowned. 'Captain?'

'That you could become fully human again,' said Janeway gently. 'You've left the home, Seven. You're a human again. _Voyager's_ too small for you now, and you're branching out.' Janeway's voice became choked with emotion, and she stopped, embarrassed.

Seven decided to say her farewells. She turned to Ensign Kim first, who had been one of the first officers who had been able to accept her as a human. 'Goodbye, Harry,' she said, using his first name for the first time. Kim beamed, surprised.

'It was an honour, Seven,' he replied.

She turned next to Chakotay, who smiled and said, in his slow manner, 'Good luck, Seven.'

'Thank you, sir. We've not often agreed before, but I want to say that I've always had the highest regard for you.' Chakotay nodded gravely, unused to such a compliment coming from the ex-Borg.

Tuvok parted his fingers in the Vulcan salute. 'Live long and prosper, Seven of Nine.'

Seven returned the salute perfectly, a skill that she had gained from the Borg. 'Live long and prosper, my mentor. Peace and long life.'

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow slightly, indicating his surprise. Seven nearly smiled.

She looked at Neelix, who held out his arm. Seven surprised him by hugging him, and when she released him, Neelix's face registered his shock. She understood now that the Talaxians were a very physical people, and Neelix was one of the more jovial types they had ever produced. Something like this hug would be commonplace on Talax, but from her it was a very unusual thing indeed. Neelix beamed, looking even happier than usual. 'Well,' he said, 'it looks like I have taught you something after all!'

Seven smiled at him now, and then looked at Ensign Wildman, and her daughter, Naomi. The child rushed forward, tears shining in her eyes, and Seven knelt to hug her as well. Ever since coming aboard, she had felt a connection to this young girl, and now that connection was being severed.

'Why do you have to leave, Seven?' Naomi asked quietly, as she leant her head upon Seven's shoulder.

'Because sometimes you need to move on,' whispered Seven. She kissed Naomi on the cheek lightly, and then let her back onto her feet, standing up. Her mother came forward, and laid her hand upon Naomi's shoulder.

'Thank you for helping us, Seven,' said Sam Wildman. 'Naomi will never forget you, and neither will I.'

Seven began to feel sadness welling up inside her. She had never known such a sadness, and she did not quite know how to deal with it. She said farewell to Ensign Wildman, turned - and found herself looking into Torres' eyes.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and Torres began to say something, but then changed her mind. Instead, she held out her hand, and said, 'Good luck, Seven.'

Seven slowly took her hand, and said, 'Goodbye, B'Elanna.'

Torres turned away, her face perturbed. Seven looked at the Doctor and Janeway standing beside each other, before the small group moved silently together, one and yet different.

Seven smiled, a motion the ex-drone was becoming used to at last, and said, 'It was my privilege to serve with you. All of you. I hope to return once my time on the _Enterprise_ is over.' She paused, trying to think of something else, and settled for, 'It's time for me to go, Captain.'

Janeway nodded sadly, her eyes tearing. They trooped into the transporter room, where Harry Kim took over the controls. Seven stepped onto the platform, and looked down at them all. She took in Janeway's sad smile, Neelix's cheery wave, Tuvok's solemn countenance, Chakotay's faint grin, Naomi and Ensign Wildman and the Doctor all smiling at her, and finally Torres, stood at the back, looking up at her silently.

Seven finally looked at Harry. 'Energise.'

The young man slid his fingers up the panel before him, and Seven of Nine dissolved into energy and vanished from the pad.

Bashir was undergoing the same ritual, although in a less restrained, and more light-hearted atmosphere, aboard the _Defiant_. Worf had come to see him before he left on his secret mission, and Sisko had just announced the new orders and assignment from Admiral Picard.

Everyone had congratulated him and Sisko on their new jobs, and now the little party was ending. Now, only Kira, Worf, Dax and Sisko remained to wish him on his way.

They all stood in the transporter room, waiting for Worf and Dax to come through. Worf had already said that he was returning to the _Enterprise_ with Bashir, in order to help the doctor orientate himself.

He and Dax stood further down the corridor, talking quietly. He stroked her long hair with a gentleness that belied his strength.

'I'll be back soon, Jadzia,' said the Klingon. Jadzia nodded sadly.

'It's just... we seem to get so little time together. I haven't seen you in nearly three months, but then you go away on a big mission before we get a chance to get together again.'

'It's only for a few days. I'll be back shortly – just wait.'

'Well maybe I'm tired of waiting!' snapped Dax, suddenly. She looked away from Worf's hurt eyes. 'Sorry. It's not your fault.'

'I can ask Admiral Picard to find someone else for the mission,' said Worf slowly. Jadzia turned and looked at him again.

'Would you do that for me?'

Worf nodded and took her hand. 'For you, anything.'

Dax smiled. 'Then go on this mission. You should never compromise your honour for anyone – not even me.'

Worf stared into her eyes for another brief second, and then kissed her gently. 'Goodbye, Jadzia, my love.'

He turned and entered the turbolift, leaving Dax behind.

Bashir stepped up onto the platform as Worf shook hands with Sisko and Kira, and then stepped up beside the doctor. Bashir nodded gravely. 'Permission to disembark, Captain?' he asked formally.

'Permission granted,' said Sisko. 'Good luck, Doctor Bashir.'

'Thank you, sir.' Kira turned to the transporter chief.

'Energise.'

Bashir and Worf vanished, and Sisko and Kira were left alone.

'Power up transwarp,' said Janeway to Torres.

'Transwarp engines activated.' A slow thrumming noise resounded through the structure of the ship for a brief moment, and then faded as the Structural Integrity Field did it's work and harmonised the resonance of the transwarp with the normal hum of the warp engines. 'Engines are stabilised. Warp at your command.'

Janeway looked at the screen, upon which Picard was watching with a slightly anxious face. 'We're ready to begin trials, sir,' she said.

'Understood,' said Picard. 'Proceed when ready. Good luck.'

Janeway nodded. 'I'll report back when the first set of tests is complete. _Voyager_ out.'

Picard's face vanished, and Janeway turned to the new helm officer, Ensign Foster. 'Ensign, set course 478 mark 547, warp four.'

'Sir.' Foster swivelled around and inputted the command. Janeway sat down. 'Course plotted and laid in.'

'Engage,' ordered Janeway. She knew that the next few moments of the test would be crucial. If _Voyager_ could not form a stable warp field with the new power source attached to its engines, then the transwarp modifications would be less than useless. Janeway's ship had been chosen as the first because the Borg had already made several modifications to the ship and its power systems. _Voyager_ would be more ready to take them.

The _Voyager_ turned on its axis, and then the warp nacelles lifted slowly into position. It gathered pace, and with a single jump, vanished into warp speed.

'Warp field stable,' reported B'Elanna. 'Warp four achieved successfully.' She turned to Janeway and Chakotay, who looked at her expectantly. 'Captain, we are ready for transwarp.'

Janeway nodded. 'Activate transwarp at 20% of capacity. Let's not be too rough.'

'Aye, Captain,' said Torres. 'Activating transwarp in five, four, three, two, one -!'

The _Voyager_ suddenly bunched itself up and threw itself and its crew even faster. The starlines on the screen all swirled together, and then ran into each other, forming a green tunnel effect around the ship.

Janeway looked at Torres. 'Status?'

'Transwarp functioning at 20%, speed now beyond warp ten.'

Janeway nodded. 'That's ten seconds,' she said. 'Slow down, and bring us to a full stop.'

Torres nodded, and programmed the computer. The tunnel changed to starlines, which changed to points of light and stopped moving. 'Janeway to Astrometrics. Harry, what's our location?'

Kim answered straight away. 'We've travelled twelve light years, Captain. That's an hour's trip at warp seven. I'd say it was a success.'

'Agreed,' said Janeway. 'Tuvok, inform the Fleet of our success.' She turned to Chakotay. 'I think that we're going to have to invent some new transwarp factors, Commander.'

'Yes, ma'am,' said Chakotay, grinning.

Picard smiled at the news from Commander Thames. 'Excellent. Order _Voyager_ to return immediately, and ask Captain Janeway to come and see me.'

'Aye, sir,' said the young woman, and her face disappeared from the viewer.

Picard looked out at the stars. The first step in the defeat of the Aralla had been taken.


	18. Infiltration

__

Chapter XVIII

Meticulous preparation was what people expected from Data, and that was exactly what they got. He locked himself away for the first two days after his return, preparing for the mission to the Aralla mother ship.

He spent the first day analysing all of the data that the Fleet had on the Aralla – their weapons, propulsion systems, hull designs, sensor nets – everything. Most of that data had been collected on his own expedition, but there was some interesting data that had been picked up at the huge battles before their retreat from the Gamma Quadrant.

The second day was spent drawing up an attack plan. Silent insertion and capture was the key. Data had already found that Aralla ships had weak long-range and short-range scanners, relying heavily on the attack planes for scouting missions. That would make the insertion fairly simple.

However, getting about in the ship would be a different matter. In theory, he and Worf would beam in, capture the ship, and fly it out through the main hangar entrance. However, the mother ships were absolutely immense. Data had the information from his scans of the vessel he and Odo had escaped from, but there was no way to know if they would encounter the same one again. If it was not, then part of the mission would fail there and then.

Picard also wanted to have _Voyager_ get as close as possible in order to scan the main computer and power distribution networks. This would tell them how the invasive program would affect the ships as it spread throughout their computers. Picard was hoping that not only would the Program bring down their shielding, it would also knock out their weapons, and maybe even propulsion as well. If so, it would make the Aralla defenceless in a battle.

Thus, Data went to the Astrometrics lab aboard _Voyager_ on the third day. Harry Kim was on duty, and Data had him call up some scans of the area immediately around the last known position of the Aralla fleet.

And it was there that Data stared at the huge screen for a long moment, and then said, 'Where are they?'

Kim frowned, looking at the console, as if it might provide the answer. 'This is the area around their last position that you gave us. There's not a trace of a single Aralla ship in that area.'

Data stepped up to the podium, examining the map. 'Make a new scan of the five sectors around that position.'

'Sir, that'll take hours!'

'We have plenty of time, Ensign,' said Data distractedly. 'A worrying theory is forming in my mind.'

Kim nodded, realising that he had nothing better to do with his time. 'Beginning scan of sector delta 5547.'

For two hours, they slowly, methodically scanned the areas around the last Aralla position for a distance of eight light-years in every direction. Once that failed, they extended their search, looking beyond their expectations of where the Aralla would be.

They were scanning through sector delta 5551 when Data shouted, 'Wait!'

Kim stopped the scan, and looked expectantly at Data, who pointed to the map. 'That planet – what's its name?'

Kim glanced at his console read-out. 'It's –' Harry paused. 'Rakosa V.'

'Rakosa,' said Data quietly. 'Focus on it.'

Harry did so, and brought the planet into full view on the screen. And stepped back from the console, fear and horror running across his face.

Rakosa V, a planet that _Voyager_ had once saved from the _Dreadnought_ missile, hung in space, it's burning cities throwing fire and smoke into a once clear atmosphere, huge continent-sized explosions propelling more dust into space.

Data stared for a silent moment, his face becoming more and more angry. 'The Aralla have arrived.'

'No....' whispered Kim, remembering the sacrifices that _Voyager_ had been prepared to make for that planet.

'How did they get there?' Data said, almost to himself. 'That's in completely the wrong direction. They're heading away from our position.'

He turned and looked at Harry, and his face softened. 'I'm sorry, Ensign,' he said gently. 'Would you like to return to your quarters?'

Harry swallowed, shook his head and stepped to the console again. 'No, thank you, sir,' he said in a voice that was noticeably unstable, his face pallid. He stared into Data's eyes, his own eyes smouldering with hatred. 'I'd like to help find the Aralla.'

Data held his gaze for a moment, nodding slowly. 'Thank you.' He turned and stepped from the podium. 'Rakosa V is not right. They normally come straight for us. Extrapolate their course from their last known position to Rakosa V,' he said.

A red line appeared, tracing a straight line from the origin point to Rakosa. Data frowned, perplexed, but worried. 'That's a long way out of their way. In fact, that's nearly a two year journey at maximum warp. How the hell -?'

He turned and faced Kim, whose face had regained some of its colour. 'Start scanning all the M-class planets between the origin point and Rakosa V. Look for signs of Aralla attacks.'

In the end, every single M-class planet along the way had been destroyed by the Aralla. The litany of horror dulled Harry's voice as he read off the scan results. Some of them were very familiar planets to the _Voyager_ crew. By the time that they reached Rakosa, hatred for the Aralla tinged Harry's every word.

Finally, the red line had shifted somewhat. Despite still going from the origin point to Rakosa V, it now had huge bends and waves in it, some more than a hundred light years long. Data was by now pretty certain of his horrifying new theory.

'I need to go and speak with Admiral Picard,' he said to Kim as he stepped from the podium. 'I want you to continue scanning –'

'Sir!' interrupted Kim. 'I've found an Aralla ship!'

Data moved to his side. 'Are you sure it's not a cometary mass or a rogue planet?'

'Absolutely certain, sir.' Kim looked up at the screen. 'Look.'

An Aralla city destroyer was eclipsing the stars before them. Around it swarmed hundreds of attack planes. In the distance, Data could see four more destroyers.

'Scan for the mother ship,' ordered Data. Kim did so, and then shook his head.

'No sign, sir. I'm picking up twenty city destroyers in that group. They've just departed an unnamed Class-M planet.'

'Status of planet?' asked Data, but he already knew that answer.

'Destroyed,' said Kim quietly.

Then, a motion on the screen caught their eye. The attack planes had disappeared, and the Aralla ships had jumped into warp. Starlines streaked past their hull as the scanners kept track of them.

Then, a new development confirmed Data's theory. The Aralla accelerated, faster and faster, until they suddenly vanished in a flash of light. The screen blanked out, as the scanners could not keep up, and returned to the view of the galaxy. Data shuddered, knowing that this information might destroy the Fleet once and for all. He tapped his commbadge.

'Data to Admiral Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'Sir, I have very bad news.' Data glanced at Kim. 'The Aralla have transwarp drive.'

'You're sure?' asked Picard, looking at Data steadily. The android nodded, and Picard sat down heavily. 'This is bad news, Data. This means that the Aralla can now hit us whenever they want, without warning.' He looked up at Data again. 'How have they managed this?'

'I believe that they may have salvaged an engine from one of the Borg Cubes that they destroyed,' said Data.

'But to study, redesign and modify that engine, test it and match it to their own engines, and then to produce the sort of power it would take to move one of those monstrosities at transwarp speed –' Picard broke off, horrified by the prospect. 'It's taking the Borg a full week just to outfit a single starship in this Fleet. They've done it to their entire fleet in less than a month.'

'Sir, I want to get the _Voyager_ mission underway now,' said Data, taking advantage of the silence.

'Are you sure?' asked Picard, glancing up at him.

'My findings say that we haven't got much time now, sir. We need to get out there, scan for the main mother ship and get that attack plane. While we're there, we may be able to get some tactical data on the Aralla plans. We still don't know why we only picked up twenty city destroyers. Where are the mother ships, and why are the Aralla hitting planets that are nowhere near our position?'

Picard nodded, understanding the point. 'You do realise that _Voyager's_ engines haven't been tested properly at maximum capacity?'

'Then we'll test them out there,' replied Data. 'We need to go _now_, sir.'

Picard nodded reluctantly. 'You're right. Be ready to go at 0800 tomorrow morning.'

Data nodded. 'Aye, sir.'

'Data to Worf.'

'Worf here.'

'Mobilise.'

'Understood. I'll be on the _Voyager_ in twenty minutes.'

'Data out.'

Worf turned away from the skull-faced warrior before. Data had interrupted him during a training exercise, but that was all right, because they were going to strike back at the Aralla at long last.

Worf, despite his long Starfleet career, had felt his warrior's blood boiling at Picard's unwillingness to retaliate against the Aralla. Planet after planet had fallen, but Picard would not strike back. Defeat after defeat, but still the Fleet ran from the black ships that had conquered the Alpha Quadrant. A true warrior would have stood and fought.

And died, added Worf's training and experience. The Starfleet side of Worf's character spoke to him, telling him that the policy that Picard had taken had saved the Fleet. Any stand against the Aralla was doomed to failure until the shields came down. And Worf would be part of that – a critical component.

But Worf knew that as time went on, his warrior side, frustrated and ready to lash out, was starting to predominate. His entire life had been a struggle between his human upbringing and his Klingon nature, and he had thought that struggle won long before. But time and again, he had been brought to face one or the other, finally having to support the Federation in direct conflict with the Klingon Empire not too long ago. Defying his friend, Gowron.

Killing his comrades in battle....

With a snarl, Worf shouted, 'Resume program!' and swung his mek'leth down to parry the stroke of his opponent's blade. Forcing the sword down, he knocked it aside, and then punched his opponent in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Worf howled, a barely coherent scream, one that came from the darkest depths of the Klingon soul. And brought the weapon down into his enemy's heart.

The hologram shuddered and went still, fading a moment later, letting Worf's blade clatter to the ground.

Worf stood for a brief moment, exulting in the successful kill – and realised that he had totally lost control of his anger for a moment, something that had not happened in these callisthenics programs for a very long time. And that was a bad sign.

Worf, troubled, picked up his mek'leth and left the holodeck, forgetting to order the program to shut down.

Data stepped onto the bridge of the _Voyager_, lost in thought. A thought train that was leading him in a very worrying direction....

'Welcome aboard, Captain,' said a voice, and Data looked up at Janeway, who was observing him from just in front of her command chair.

'Sorry?'

'Welcome aboard,' she repeated, slightly testily.

'Oh, thank you,' replied the android. 'Is Commander Worf aboard yet?'

At that moment, the other turbolift slid open, and Worf stepped out. 'Commander Worf reporting for duty as ordered,' he said formally.

'Welcome aboard as well, Commander,' said Janeway, smiling.

'As well...?' Worf glanced across and saw Data. 'Captain Data!'

'Hello Worf,' said Data.

'I'll have Mr. Kim show you to your quarters, gentlemen.'

'Thank you, Captain,' said Worf, when Data didn't seem about to respond. Data, instead looked up at Janeway.

'Captain, could I have a private word?'

'By all means,' answered the other. 'Ensign, show Mr. Worf to his quarters,' she added as she led Data across the bridge.

They entered Janeway's ready room. Data immediately said, 'Is the special equipment I asked for installed in my quarters?'

'Yes,' said Janeway.

Data nodded, his manner that of an absent-minded scholar. 'I would like Ensign Kim seconded from his duties and to work with me in Astrometrics.'

Janeway nodded. 'By all means, Captain. May I ask the reason?'

'We have several hypotheses about the behaviour of the Aralla. I wish to test them.' Data looked her full in the eye for the first time since coming aboard. 'We must get underway.'

Janeway didn't believe, as many others did, that the eye was a window to the soul, but she looked at Data's mechanical eye, and saw, within, a tortured human – just a brief glimpse. And once again, since meeting the Fleet, she wondered, _What's happening to us?_

The _Voyager_ turned away from the bustling mass of the ships that clouded the Unicomplex, turned for deep space. It's nacelles lifted to a slightly higher position, and the starship shot into warp.

'Prepare for transwarp,' ordered Janeway. 'On my mark.'

'Capacity at 20%,' said B'Elanna. 'I advise going no higher than fifty.'

'We will start at 50%,' interjected Data. 'We need as much speed as possible,' he added.

Janeway held his gaze, and then nodded to B'Elanna who shook her head and reset the controls.

Down in Engineering, Joseph Carey, second-in-command of that department, added his shake of the head to the litany of confusion that spread through _Voyager's_ crew. However, in deference to his superiors, who he hoped knew what they were doing, he programmed the unit for 50% of capacity. He turned, and looked at the tall warp core, and the small unit that was attached by Borg technology to its side, pumping a strange concoction into the anti-matter/matter intermix. He was only surprised that it had not destroyed the ship the second it was activated.

'Transwarp at 50%,' said B'Elanna sourly. 'Awaiting the order.'

Janeway gave Data a final glance, which he ignored. 'Engage.'

B'Elanna nodded and pressed a control. 'In five, four, three, two, one!'

The _Voyager_ jolted slightly, and then faded away in a beam of light that split space in two, making it look to the observer as if the starship had actually passed _through_ a curtain, one that just happened to be the very fabric of reality.

It was, after all, merely a veil.

The screen blanked out. Janeway stared for a moment at B'Elanna. 'What's going on?' she asked quietly.

'I- I- don't know,' admitted the stunned engineer. 'I've never seen anything like this before. According to the transwarp drive, we're at 50% of capacity, but we're not in transwarp space.'

'This is real transwarp,' said Data, who had seen it before. 'You all understand that warp-capable ships don't travel in normal space. Einsteinian laws prevent that. What happens is that the warp engine makes a hole in space into subspace, and that allows us to go at faster than light velocities. The transwarp drive is effectively doing the same thing – pushing us from subspace into transwarp space. The sensors are not capable of displaying it, so the monitor is blank.'

'So why didn't it do that in the initial tests?' demanded B'Elanna. 'All we saw was the green tunnel effect.'

'Yes, that's correct,' said Data. 'The main part of warp drive is the initial push through the barrier of normal space into subspace. The rest is all fairly easy on the engines, accelerating beyond light is a simple task after going to warp one in the first place. With transwarp, it is much the same thing. It makes a hole from subspace into transwarp but, unlike warp drive, at less than 50% capacity, the effect is merely skimming between subspace and transwarp space. Over 50%, you are fully propelled into transwarp space. It will be safe to accelerate now. I recommend taking the drive to 70% of capacity.'

'You heard him, B'Elanna,' said Janeway.

'Aye, Captain.' The engineer adjusted a few controls.

There was no appreciable effect, but B'Elanna nodded to Janeway, indicating that the job was done. Janeway turned to Ensign Foster. 'ETA to target?'

'Four hours, three minutes.' They were travelling nearly one thousand light years in just over four hours, a journey that would have required weeks at maximum warp.

'Amazing,' muttered Chakotay.

'I will retire to my quarters,' said Data to Janeway. 'Please alert me when we reach our destination.'

'Yes, Captain,' she replied, and Data nodded and left the bridge.

'Bit of a cold fish,' remarked Chakotay to Janeway as she sat beside him.

She nodded. 'I was given to understand that he had emotions now. He will be difficult to deal with.'

'What are his plans?' asked the commander, but Janeway shrugged.

'We find out when we get there.'

'Damn strange way to run a mission,' said Chakotay, his voice frustrated.

'You're telling me,' Janeway agreed. She glanced at her friend. 'I can't understand this Fleet sometimes. It's as though they're not fully human anymore.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. Picard and Data are both strangers, and I've met them both in the past. Even Ben Sisko isn't the same man.'

'War changes people,' suggested Chakotay.

'Are the Aralla so terrible?' Janeway said, her voice questioning. 'Is there the possibility that Picard and this Fleet may have been so badly wrong in judging the Aralla that we're fighting a war that could have been avoided?'

'Possibly,' said Chakotay. 'We were always taught that war is always avoidable, and should always be the last resort in any conflict of interest.'

'Exactly. And, to be honest, we still haven't got the full story. We know that the Aralla have attacked and destroyed huge swathes of the galaxy, but why did they do that? I intend to ask Admiral Picard that question when we get back.'

'Bear in mind, Captain,' added Chakotay, his tone that of warning, 'we have not yet faced the Aralla. And Harry said that they have destroyed Rakosa V.'

For a moment, Janeway's face darkened. 'Yes, that's a fact. Picard is right about one thing – the Aralla are certainly ruthless.'

The door bleeped. 'Enter.'

Worf stepped into Data's quarters, and looked at the android who sat at a computer desk, silent. 'Sir, I wanted to talk with you.'

Data roused himself from his contemplation. 'By all means?' He motioned to a seat, and Worf sat. 'What did you want to talk about?'

'You, sir,' said Worf, straightforward as ever. Data looked him in the eye.

'Me?'

'Yes, sir. I have always believed that you can talk to your friends. So, I understand, have you. Why do you not talk?'

'What would I want to talk about?' asked Data, bemused by Worf's line of questioning.

'Captain, you have been highly secretive and depressed since you returned from your expedition. I know that it is not my place –'

'You're _right_! It isn't your place at all, mister!' Data's shout of anger took Worf a little by surprise. His face told Data that he had made a mistake, and the android subsided. 'Sorry, Worf. I shouldn't have shouted.'

'It is your prerogative, sir,' said the Klingon, reflecting that despite his advantages of size and height, Data had once broken his leg without really trying.

'No, I was in the wrong. You're quite right Worf. I have been extremely downbeat of late.'

'Then, with respect, what is the problem, sir?' Data remained silent. Worf sighed, exasperated. Data pursed his lips, and then spoke.

'I am extremely new to the world of emotions, Worf. You organic beings are able to deal with certain feelings and experience through childhood. However, I have had to deal with them as an adult. The sudden, unexpected rush of defeats and deaths has caused great depression in me, starting with the death of Counsellor Troi all the way through to Odo's death. I cannot handle all of them at such short notice – I am, in short, being overwhelmed by a tide of emotion that I simply do not have the experience or the time to deal with. I've been cast straight back into the fray after a very long and tiring journey all the way from the Gamma Quadrant. Even androids are not immortal. Neither are we indestructible.'

Worf nodded, understanding that Data was suffering from stress and an android version of extreme exhaustion. 'Admiral Picard must be made to realise that, Data, and you are the only one who can do that.'

Data sighed ever so slightly, and then nodded. 'Thank you, Worf. You've given me a lot to think about. Was there anything else?'

Worf bowed his head and shook it slightly, unable to believe Data's attitude. 'No, sir. I just wanted –'

'Thank you, Mr. Worf.' The android cut him off, and returned to his work, leaving Worf crestfallen. The Klingon turned and left.

Data tapped his fingers against the smooth surface of the padd he cradled in his hand, staring up at the vast screen before him.

The _Voyager_ had made eight stops along the way, collecting intelligence data about the Aralla movements. So far, they had detected five different groups of ships, all moving in different directions, and all of them unaccompanied by a mother ship.

They had also detected forty more destroyed planets, all of them attacked in the same way, undoubtedly the work of the Aralla.

Now, the small network of lines had expanded, giving rise to more theories about the Aralla plans. From a single point of origin, Data had drawn six red lines, all curving away from the origin, and all moving away from the Borg Unicomplex. Every planet along that route that harboured even the remotest possibility of life was attacked mercilessly.

However, each of those lines, despite curving slightly as the Aralla ships branched out to attack planets away from their chosen route, was following a roughly parallel course to the others, one that now beginning to curve back around. Data turned to Kim.

'Ensign, I want you to extrapolate those lines along their current course. See if they meet up.'

'Yes, sir,' said Kim, setting to work. The lines lengthened slowly, and curved around even further. Data watched, horror rising, as they converged together towards the bottom of the map. Finally they all met, exactly at the same point. Data stepped closer, realising what the Aralla were doing.

At the exact centre of the lines were the Borg Unicomplex and the Fleet. They were encircled by the Aralla advance perfectly, and the Aralla would be perfectly placed to attack as soon as they reached their final destination.

Data suddenly had an inspiration, and he whirled to face Kim. 'Ensign, scan the convergence co-ordinates!'

'I can't, sir. It's well out of range,' said Kim.

Data nodded, annoyed slightly. 'Ask Captain Janeway to come to Astrometrics. I have some bad news.'

'Damn, you're right!' said Janeway, staring at the red lines before her. 'But why are they doing it in such a roundabout way?'

'I have no idea,' admitted Data. 'However, I believe I know where the mother ships are.'

'You do? Where?'

Data pointed silently to a point on the map – the point at which the lines converged. 'They are waiting for the return of the city destroyers. From there, they will launch their attack upon the Unicomplex.'

Janeway nodded grimly, and pressed a control on the console. 'Janeway to bridge.'

'Bridge here,' answered Chakotay.

'Commander, set course along a new set of co-ordinates that I'm transmitting to the helm. Engage transwarp at 50% of capacity, and then run her up to 100%.'

'A hundred?' asked Chakotay, voice stunned. 'Captain, we've –'

'I'm well aware of that. However, this is vitally urgent.'

'Understood,' said Chakotay immediately, but Janeway could hear the cautious reluctance in his voice. 'Bridge out.'

Janeway turned to Data. 'I've done as you asked.'

'Thank you, Captain.'

'Now you can do me a favour,' added Janeway as if Data had not spoken.

'A favour?' echoed Data.

'You could tell me exactly what you're planning to do?'

'Ah,' said Data guiltily. He realised that he had not informed Janeway of his plan, and it was one which would require great risk of _Voyager_ and her crew. 'You're right. You have a right to know.'

He gestured to the map. 'We will proceed to the location of the Aralla mother ships, to a point just out of transporter range. Then, you will warp in, drop out of warp long enough to transport myself and Commander Worf aboard one of those ships and then warp back out of range. After shaking off any Aralla pursuit, you will get just within scanner range of the mother ships again, and make full sensor sweeps of them. We need to know as much as possible about those ships' internal structures, power distribution centres, and computer networks as possible. Aside from that, merely await my signal.'

'And if we are attacked by the Aralla?'

'Retreat to a place of safety. It's far more important that you get back with those sensor scans than myself or Worf get out.'

Janeway nodded slowly. 'Once we receive your signal....?'

'Worf and I are attempting to steal an attack plane from the Aralla, which we will, if all goes well, pilot into the shuttle bay on _Voyager_. Then we will make our escape.'

Janeway smiled. 'You make it sound so easy.'

'Believe me, it won't be,' replied Data. 'The first thing that we have to do is identify the right mother ship to board. Then we need to beam into the right place. It is far more likely than not that we will have to hunt through the ship for a likely candidate for capture, which will be dangerous and time-consuming. Once we locate our target, and capture it, we will come under fire from the Aralla. If we escape the docking bay, we will head directly for your position. At that moment, I will signal for you to receive us.'

'How long do we wait?'

'Ten hours after insertion, if we have not signalled, assume that we are dead or captured, and make your way back to the Fleet at full speed. Make no attempt to rescue us. The Aralla will tear apart a single ship with ease.'

Janeway nodded again, her face becoming grim. 'Why are you stealing this ship?'

'That is a question for Admiral Picard to answer,' answered Data shortly. 'I am not at liberty to say.'

Janeway watched the android for a brief moment. 'I understand.' She glanced at Kim, who stood looking at his console, being unobtrusive. 'Ensign, our ETA?'

'Four hours, ten minutes, Captain.'

Janeway glanced at Data. 'I'll be on the bridge. We'll make advance scans as we reach the target. I advise you and Commander Worf to prepare.'

Without another word, she turned and left, leaving Data staring at the map.

The _Voyager's_ short journey towards the rendezvous point was punctuated by drops from transwarp, on Data's orders, to make more scans for Aralla ships and to confirm his theory. And the scans confirmed it.

Nearly eighty Aralla ships were picked up, all on different courses, but all following the curve that Data had predicted to bring them around to their predicted destination. All of the ships ha been sighted either departing or attacking a planet, giving the _Voyager_ crew an unparalleled view of the enemy.

And at every planet, Data would look slowly at the reactions of the crew, a mixture of horror and misery, and then order them to press on.

One of the most illuminating scans showed an Aralla fleet in transwarp. They held the speed at what Data judged to be 50% of the capacity of the _Voyager's_ transwarp engines, and then dropped back out again. They paused for a brief moment, and then launched themselves again.

Data nodded appreciatively. The energy demands of keeping such a huge mass in transwarp for any length of time were being negated by skipping in and out of transwarp in short jumps. They would arrive at the outskirts of a system and drop out of transwarp, continuing the rest of the journey either at warp or impulse speed. 

He had come to the bridge an hour after Janeway had left him in Astrometrics, and had appropriated Chakotay's command chair. Shortly afterwards, the _Voyager_ had outstripped the Aralla ships, and was on course for the final destination.

'Sir,' said Kim abruptly, 'I have a scanner view of the Aralla rendezvous.'

'Hypothesised,' chided Data, 'hypothesised, Ensign. On screen.'

Kim activated the viewer, and Data closed his eyes briefly, after seeing the vision before him.

Janeway and the bridge crew around him all failed to contain their surprise. The Aralla mother ships all sat, dark and foreboding, in space, eclipsing the stars totally. Their darkness made them difficult to see at first, but once you traced out their outline by the stars that they eclipsed, their vastness could be fully appreciated.

They lurked against a small planet, one that should have dwarfed them, but instead seemed to emphasise their size. At that moment, in a rather impressive effect, the sun cut across the planet, drenching them in light for a brief moment. The crew could see the thousands of attack planes buzzing around the huge ships, all swarming on aimless journeys that held the purpose of an ant-heap.

'They,' said Worf from the rear of the bridge, 'are the Aralla.'

And no more needed to be said.

'Ensign Foster,' said Janeway, 'can you bring us out of warp about a quarter of a light year away from the Aralla ships?'

'Aye, sir,' answered the helmsman. She programmed in the course, slowly guiding the now warp-borne _Voyager_ into a deceleration curve that ended with them stopping in space.

Data turned to Ensign Foster. 'Ensign, do you know how to perform a manoeuvre known as "Touch-and-go downwarping?"'

'Yes, sir,' answered Foster confidently.

Data nodded slightly. 'On my order, you will warp along the vector of the Aralla ships, shields down, and perform said manoeuvre. Then, you will warp back out again.'

'With shields down, sir, we may not survive a sustained attack,' said Chakotay, ignoring Janeway's warning glance.

'The Aralla will not react sufficiently to cause problems for a capable helmsman. Indeed, the only concern will be the attack planes. With their strike capabilities, I estimate that you will have a margin of thirty seconds to perform the manoeuvre and get out of range,' countered Data. Still his face was impassive.

Janeway nodded, forestalling any response from an angry Chakotay. 'We understand, Captain. My crew knows what to do. It's time you carried out your end of the deal.'

Data nodded solemnly. 'I will transmit the order to launch when I am ready.'

He turned, and he and Worf left the bridge. Immediately, Janeway turned to Ensign Foster. 'Ensign, you're relieved.'

'Sir?' asked the surprised helmsman, her voice disappointed. Janeway smiled at her, realising what a blow to her confidence this might be.

'I have every confidence in your abilities as a helmsman, Ensign, but I think that Captain Data's prediction of the Aralla response is dead wrong. You've never piloted a starship in a combat situation like that.'

Foster nodded sadly, and stood from her seat. Janeway motioned for Chakotay to take the helm. As he passed Janeway, he said, _sotto voce_, 'Neither have I.'

Janeway stared steadfastly forward, making no indication that she had heard him. Chakotay shrugged, and sat down.

The captain leant down and whispered in his ear, 'I really miss Tom.'

Chakotay nodded sadly.

Data entered the transporter room and walked straight to the small pile of weapons that he and Worf had carefully selected from _Voyager's_ stores. He slung a phaser rifle across his back, buckled a combat belt around his waist, which contained his tricorder, a set of photon grenades, and a type-two phaser. To this he added a type-one phaser for a surprise.

Worf had picked up the same equipment, but he also had his bat'leth and mek'leth and instead of a phaser rifle he carried a different weapon, one that Data recognised, but had kept quiet about. He passed Data a small armband which Data strapped to his forearm and pressed a key. It lit up blue and then red and went dark again. Satisfied, Data tapped his commbadge. 'Data to bridge. I am transmitting a transponder code on channel 5574. Confirm that you can detect this.'

'Confirmed,' answered Kim's voice.

'If both signals are lost, assume we are dead and retreat from the area.'

'Understood,' answered Janeway.

Data glanced at Worf. 'All set?'

The Klingon nodded, and stepped onto the pad, followed by Data. He tapped his badge again. 'Execute.'

The _Voyager_ leapt into warp, straight for the Aralla ships. It flashed past them and dropped out of warp next to the huge black hull of one particular ship chosen by Data earlier.

'We've dropped out of warp,' warned the transporter chief.

'Energise!' ordered Worf.

The glittering energy surrounded them –

The Aralla mother ship opened fire on the _Voyager_. A single beam of the cutting weapon slashed out and narrowly missed the port nacelle of the tiny starship, brushing it with an energy discharge.

The ship shuddered, Chakotay fighting to evade another blast already heading their way. 'They certainly reacted a lot faster!' he shouted.

Janeway nodded tensely.

'Attack planes on intercept!' said Tuvok. 'Thirty seconds to intercept!'

The transporter beam blazed bright around Worf and Data for a second, before they vanished. The transporter chief hit his badge. 'Transport complete!'

Janeway glanced at Kim as another beam of energy missed _Voyager_. 'Confirm!'

'Transponders detected!' replied Kim, smiling. 'They're onboard.'

Chakotay didn't need an order.

The _Voyager_ raised its shields, and turned away from the Aralla. A desultory salvo from the attack planes missed wildly as the starship warped out of harm's way, leaving the Aralla confused and in disarray behind it.

Ten minutes later, _Voyager_ appeared behind the planet again and settled in to wait patiently.

Janeway turned to Kim. 'Get down to Astrometrics and scan every inch of those ships from stem to stern.'

'Aye, captain,' said the young man, turning and leaving the bridge.

Janeway turned to look at the now quiescent mass of the Aralla ships, beginning to realise what sort of a threat they faced in those ships. Chakotay gave the helm back to Foster and began running through the minor damage reports in the first officer's seat. He glanced at Janeway. 'Captain, just a direct hit from one of those energy beams would have blown _Voyager_ apart easily.'

'I know,' answered Janeway. 'I may have been wrong about the Aralla. They opened fire as soon as they saw us.'

'We are at war, and I believe that Admiral Picard would have done the same,' remarked Chakotay.

'I know,' repeated Janeway. She looked at her friend, worry written across her face. 'Is it possible that the Aralla have made us into versions of themselves?'

Chakotay could not find an answer, and after a moment, he looked away. Janeway looked back at the screen, extremely worried. For both _Voyager_, and the Fleet.


	19. Another Victim Claimed

__

Chapter XIX

The two intruders materialised aboard the Aralla ship, weapons out and senses alert. When no Aralla approached them, Data took quick stock of his surroundings, pulling out his tricorder to scan around them.

The lighting level in this section of the ship was higher than usual for an Aralla ship, but still fairly low. Visibility was about thirty metres before inky darkness claimed the light.

However, dim shapes could be made out in the gloom beyond the veil of darkness, and Data quickly verified their existence and location. Three Aralla lurked just out of range of vision, and it was only a mercy that they had not seen the transporter beam. Data nodded to Worf, who raised his rifle, and activated the small light on the top of the barrel.

The three Aralla stood transfixed in the beam for a brief second before three silent shots from Worf's rifle felled them. The Klingon lowered the illegal TR-116 and nodded to Data, who scanned again and then shook his head. 'Clear.'

The Klingon led the way, keeping the rifle ready, and his eyes peeled. Data shadowed him, scanning ahead.

They continued in this fashion for ten minutes, not encountering a single Aralla, until Data hissed, 'Stop!'

Worf froze, allowing Data to pass him, and say, 'There's a corner about fifty metres ahead of us. I'm reading concentrated numbers of lifeforms around it.'

'Aralla?'

Data paused, checking the tricorder. 'I'm not sure.'

'Suggestions?'

'Carry on, but check what's around that corner first. Then we'll make a decision.'

'Agreed,' said Worf, and slipped past Data, gliding noiselessly to the corner. He peered around.

Data came up behind him. 'What's there?'

Worf looked around at him, and Data was surprised to see that his face was pale. 'You'd better look for yourself.'

Data looked around, and saw what lay beyond.

Huge tanks of clear glass rested to either side of a narrow walkway that also had a series of narrow protrusions that ended in consoles bearing strange data. Fog filled the air, making the sight slightly eerie. The area was deserted, and Worf and Data started to walk through.

Huge clear cylinders extended down into the tanks, pumping a strange cloudy liquid into them. But the tanks and the complex apparatus was not what concerned the two Starfleet officers.

Data and Worf glanced up as a clanking sound reverberated through the chamber, and footsteps could be heard in the near distance. The two intruders slipped back around the corner into the dark corridor, watching what happened.

An Aralla walked from out of the fog, carrying a small canister of green gelatinous slime. Stopping at one of the tanks, it opened a small hatch and inserted the canister end-first into the tank.

Then it looked straight at Worf. A single shot from the TR-116 caught it clean in the head, killing it without a sound. It collapsed, and the canister fell to the walkway, smashing on impact.

The crash reverberated around the compartment, and Data and Worf froze, but no further sounds could be heard other than the low humming of the equipment. Data took a few steps toward the dead Aralla, scanning ahead but detecting nothing. He glanced at the open hatch in the tank – and froze in horror. 'Worf!' His shout, not quietened, alerted Worf to a problem, and he rushed to the android's side, rifle raised.

'What?' Data silently pointed a trembling finger at the hatch, and Worf glanced in.

It housed a small, spider-like creature resting on a black, velvet-like material. The purple and green creature had two pincers at one end, and three legs on either side with a small tail at it's back end. Data let out a long breath in utter horror.

'Worf, the conspiracy –' Data stuttered the words, 'the conspiracy, fifteen years ago, it was these parasites – the _Aralla!_'

Worf looked at him, recalling the events on Earth, the destructive infiltration of the Admiralty by the parasites, the long search by the _Enterprise_ to locate and destroy them. 'They said that they came from an unexplored planet –'

'Emeralle II was unexplored at the time. Only Romulan data that we captured allowed Starfleet to name the planet and have some idea of what was there. We never realised that the homing signal that Commander Remmick was transmitting was directed there.'

'Was it?'

'I bet when we check the data, we'll find that it was.'

'But the Aralla are not from this galaxy –'

'I know! But Emeralle II was the planet that hid the dimensional rift that the Aralla came through in the first place -! Damn! It's all so obvious!'

'What?' asked Worf, casting nervous glances around him, not sure how long they would have.

'The entire invasion!' Data looked at Worf. 'The parasites that invaded and nearly captured Starfleet Command were obviously the first line in the Aralla invasion. Like any other invasion force, they sent a scouting force through the gate to find out what the opposition consisted of. Once that failed to report back, they sent the second scouts through – the parasites.'

'What was the first force?' asked Worf.

'The two city destroyers that were defeated by the Romulans last century. The parasites were there to infiltrate and knock out what was considered the greatest threat to the Aralla – Starfleet and the Federation. Once they failed, the Aralla would have made new plans. The Aralla have been planning this war for the last hundred years! I really need to talk to Admiral Picard when we get back.' Data stopped, and took a breath. 'However, this can wait until the mission is over. We have a job to do – let's get on with it.'

'What about that?' said Worf, jerking a thumb at the creature in the tank.

Data nearly gave in to his dark swirling anger, but then pulled back and he closed the hatch. 'Let's get out of here.' They walked quickly through the room, Data scanning, but his mind not really on the task.

They encountered a large door about a hundred metres down the corridor, one which the Aralla they had killed had obviously come through. Data scanned it, but frowned. 'My tricorder can't detect anything past it. It's made of some sort of resistant alloy.' He holstered the tricorder.

'I suggest that we open it,' said Worf slinging the rifle over his broad shoulders.

'Worf?'

'Yes?'

'Why the TR-116? You do realise that it's illegal.'

'I know,' said Worf, turning and giving him a feral grin – or, at least, baring his teeth. 'However, it's not an energy weapon, and _I'm_ betting that the Aralla use some form of internal security sensors to detect energy discharges. It's one of the best ways, on a ship this size, to detect intruders, due to the high density of lifeforms onboard. Some of us are also capable of hypothesising.'

Data winced at this. 'I apologise, Worf. I have been most insulting.'

'I'm not concerned,' said Worf, turning and giving him a solemn look, 'but you were most abrupt and aloof on our time aboard _Voyager_. I think Captain Janeway and her crew are the ones who deserve your apology.'

Data nodded sadly. 'I still have an apology for you, Worf,' he said contritely. 'If you will take it.'

Worf smiled again, this time with genuine warmth and clapped an arm around Data. 'I accept, Data! Remember, we are old friends – I would not let anything like that get in the way of our friendship.'

Worf turned away, sinking back into his warrior mode, and examined the door. An extremely heavy-looking door, it had no obvious handles or controls to open it. However, it had several holes along the frame, which Worf assumed to be the places the Aralla would plant their tentacles to open the door. He tested them, and saw that he could get enough of a grip to pull the door towards him.

It swung easily, so easily that he and Data stepped back in shock as it opened silently for such a heavy-looking door and allowed them a look through -

Into familiar territory for Data. The black chasm that he and Odo had fled along was on the other side of the door that Worf opened, with the walkway that they had used at their feet. To their left, the black wall dropped away into darkness, from whence came the clanks and groans of memory.

'Let's go,' said Data grimly, and he and Worf unslung their weapons and made their way along the walkway.

Their pace increased now. Soon, the bodies they had left in their wake would be found, and the Aralla would be alerted to their presence. They needed to have reached the docking bay and located a suitable fighter by then.

The next hour was taken by moving briskly along the walkway, not running, but moving quickly. They still had plenty of time to accomplish their objectives.

Tuvok's console bleeped at him, and he looked up at Janeway. 'There is a wing of attack planes approaching our position,' he said calmly, as if he were presenting a routine report.

'ETA?'

'Two minutes.'

Janeway looked back at the screen. 'Any indication that they've noticed us yet?'

'Not as yet. It appears to be part of their normal patrol pattern. We will be in scanner range in thirty seconds.'

'I'm not taking the chance,' said Janeway. 'Ensign Foster, take us to a point one light year away. Warp three.'

'Aye, sir,' said the helmsman.

The starship turned and vanished into warp silently. A moment later, the fighters swept around the curve of the planet, and held their position.

Janeway stared at the sensor image from safety. 'Damn,' she said softly. 'I was hoping to get back there once they leave.'

'They've obviously realised that planet's a tactical blind-spot,' said Chakotay.

'We'll have to return for the away team once they signal, unless those fighters move.' Janeway looked away from the screen for a moment. 'Bridge to Astrometrics.'

'Kim here.'

'Ensign, have you completed those scans?'

'I can't make anymore to the depth that Captain Data requested, so I suppose so,' answered the young man.

'Very well. Transmit them to my ready room, and return to the bridge,' Janeway ordered.

'Aye, Captain.'

'Are you going to look at them?' asked Chakotay.

'Yes. I'm going to find what our precious Data is looking for. And work out why.' Without a further word, she turned and left the bridge.

Worf and Data hurried along the walkway now, convinced that their actions were about to be uncovered. To have been left alone for the period that they had been was nothing short of a miracle, and they both knew it. Data's rifle was pointed towards the floor, but Worf's was cradled in his right arm, pointed and ready to fire.

An alarm suddenly blared out and a harsh, alien rasping noise accompanied it. Data recognised the alarm. 'They've found us!' he yelled over the noise.

Worf nodded silently, and they increased their pace to a flat-out run.

The huge spotlight that Data remembered suddenly flashed into life, surprising Worf enough to make him stumble slightly.

The drop of his body, however slight, saved his life. A beam of blue energy flashed across the chasm and burnt a hole in the wall in front of Data's run. They dashed onwards, but Worf took his phaser and aimed a beam of energy into the centre of light. However, this time a green field of light, barely visible in the actinic glare, flashed into being, blocking the beam of energy.

Worf growled something unintelligible, and ran on, tucking the phaser away.

A storm of fire erupted from the chasm and tracked Data and Worf as they ran.

Data felt it creeping up behind him, getting closer, and knowing that they could not outrun it any longer –

He saw the long, bright corridor before him, and with one last effort, pushed Worf into it.

Both of them rolled to a stop, safe from the energy storm that had dogged them.

Worf had his rifle and phaser out, moving from his uncontrolled roll to a warrior's crouch, scanning the way ahead, and nodded his thanks to Data. Data smiled back. 'We'd better get moving. They'll be sending people both ways to cut us off.'

'Correct,' said Worf, and they pushed on.

They rounded the corner - 

In front of them was the docking bay. A window gave them the view of the huge bay that housed the thousands of attack planes, all waiting to be deployed against the enemies of the Aralla, the blue fog pervading the bay like mist in an orchard.

Worf looked out of the window, stunned by the sheer size of it. Data had seen it before, but he was still awed by it's monstrous proportions that seemed to be oversized even by Aralla standards.

'Come on,' he said brusquely to the Klingon, tearing his gaze away, 'this way.'

They started along the new corridor, still hearing the alarm in the distance. But, like most of the Aralla ship, this section seemed to be deserted, something that Data could not understand. Why should an invasion force of such size be so badly undercrewed?

'Down!' shouted Worf, slightly ahead of Data. As Data turned to look, a beam of blue energy sizzled past his face, scorching the wall to his left. He fell, and Worf aimed a shot from the rifle at a single Aralla before them. It toppled over, tentacles waving wildly.

Worf checked the TR-116, and then dropped it to the floor. 'Empty,' he said, unslinging the phaser rifle. He and Data clambered to their feet and rushed onwards.

The corridor took the turns and twists that Data expected, affording them occasional looks at the docking bay, but now they were in even more of a hurry. The Aralla knew that they were heading for the docking bays, and that they were well-armed.

Suddenly, they ran past a branching corridor that Worf ignored, but Data glanced in and his eyes widened at the surprise that greeted him.

Twenty Aralla stormed towards them, silent but purposeful. They were armed with a variety of weapons, that unleashed a storm of energy towards the android.

Data ducked, rolled, and, as the Aralla entered the main corridor, opened up with his phaser rifle, cutting two of them down. Worf had obviously seen the problem, because he fired a pair of shots into a single Aralla, sending the creature to the floor.

A pair of tentacles whipped out and wrested the rifle from Data's hands, and as he scrabbled for his other phaser, lashed him and sent him crashing to the deck. Another tentacle whipped out and caught Data's left leg and held him in place as the Aralla jumped upon him instantly.

A shot from Worf caught one of the Aralla in the head, sending it crashing back. The second creature flashed a tentacle towards a nearby control. It touched it as the Klingon blasted it.

A bright blue energy field surrounded Worf, who dropped the rifle and phaser he carried hastily. Data felt the type-one phaser tucked into his belt grow red-hot in a matter of moments, but he concentrated on fighting the Aralla that struggled to subdue him.

Worf grabbed his bat'leth and moved in closer. His first swing decapitated an Aralla and he finished it with a stab in the back. He withdrew it in a fluid movement, and slashed down another with a single swipe.

He closed with the others, and in a fast, slashing whirl of metal, finished them. Then he turned his attention to those attacking Data. A swift movement drew one of them out and he took it apart in a welter of purple blood.

Data punched one of the Aralla and turned his attention to the others. Displaying his android strength, he forced himself to his feet, and threw the Aralla aside.

Six Aralla stared silently as the Starfleet officers moved closer together, side by side. Data took his phaser from his belt, noting that it had cooled down again and set it to kill. Worf had his face set in the classical Klingon pose of insane bloodlust, and looked like one of the mythical statues of Kahless that he possessed.

Data whispered, 'Start walking backwards. Let them make the running.' Worf made no signal that he had heard the android, but they both began taking slow steps backward, away from the Aralla that faced them.

Data's foot brushed something, and he glanced back, seeing the phaser rifle that he had dropped. He knelt slowly, not taking his eyes off the approaching Aralla. Then, he dropped his eyes for a brief moment as he gripped the rifle.

The Aralla struck. They charged forward, slashing at the two intruders. Data felled one with his phaser, and then took a tentacle across the face, and he fell again.

He still gripped the rifle, but found himself forced to struggle with an Aralla, who was concentrating merely on keeping him out of the battle with Worf.

Worf stood in a slight crouch, moving in a slow circular motion, swinging the bat'leth in a deadly protective arc. Occasionally one of the Aralla would take a probing swipe at him, but he would easily fend it off with the bat'leth. Concentrating on the quartet facing him, he spared no glance for Data, who struggled silently against the single Aralla for the phaser rifle.

Then, the four Aralla facing Worf split up into two groups, which tried to encircle him. he backed off, his expression not changing, but his eyes darted from side to side, trying to find a way out.

He then lunged at one Aralla, killing it quickly, and moved onto the next before the group had time to react. As the others closed in from behind, Worf desperately fought and defeated the other Aralla, kicking it to the deck. He turned, just in time to parry a pair of thrusts from the Aralla closing him down. Data could only see a desperately flashing bat'leth as they surrounded Worf.

The android decided to take matters into his hand. He let go of the rifle, forcing the Aralla to fall back slightly, and swung an arm, clubbing the Aralla back. He redoubled his efforts, punching the Aralla before him and forcing it back even further. Data kicked it once in the head, and clambered to his feet, grabbing the rifle and turning to shoot the others in the back. As he did so, he saw the bat'leth wrested from Worf's grip and held up by one Aralla.

He aimed the rifle, and then saw Worf grab his mek'leth from his belt, even as the Aralla held his other blade, and slash them both across the midriff. The two Aralla fell, leaving only Worf stood, mek'leth raised, hair wild, the very picture of the ultimate Klingon warrior.

Worf lowered the blade, and stepped across to Data, bloodlust fading from his eyes as he did so. 'We'd better get on,' he said. Data nodded, and turned to face the docking bay as Worf retrieved his weapons.

He spotted a small tube, extending from of the long pillars to a single attack plane. He decided on a plan.

He turned to face Worf and said, 'I've found a good candidate for capture.'

Worf turned in the act of grabbing his bat'leth and said, 'Good –'

At that precise second the Aralla that had stolen his weapon reared up and stabbed Worf through the stomach with his own blade.

As the Klingon fell, stunned surprise on his face, Data brought his phaser rifle around and shot the Aralla mercilessly in the head. It crashed to the deck, dead at last.

Data rushed to Worf's side, kneeling and staring into the dying warrior's eyes. 'Worf!' His voice was anguished, desperate, filled with pain at losing such good friend. 'Worf!' To his surprise, the Klingon's eyes opened, and stared at Data, pain filling them.

Worf reached out a shaking hand, and said hoarsely, 'Data, finish the mission. _Qapla, _old friend.'

He looked up at the ceiling, eyes glazing over, and whispered, '_Sto-Vo-Kor....'_ His eyes flickered to look at Data for a brief second, his breath faded, and Worf slumped back, dead. He stood, and raised his phaser, setting it to its highest level.

Eyes tearing, he growled, 'They won't take your body!'

He fired. The body dematerialised in a red glow and vanished, leaving no trace of the honourable warrior. Data bowed his head, feeling as if he had lost part of his soul. Again, he had looked into the eyes of death, those of Riker and now Worf. He had seen his own end there, in those final fleeting seconds of life.

Data finally roused himself, remembering Worf's last words. He picked up the bat'leth and mek'leth that Worf had left behind, vowing to keep some part of his friend alive, and headed on alone.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the location he had pinpointed. On his level (He couldn't think how the Aralla got from level to level without some form of turbolift) the long thin tube extended to the attack plane in the middle distance. A small compartment, big enough four eight people, with a large console beneath a small window allowed three Aralla to look out at the fighter.

Data took one of the photon grenades and set it for stun. He tossed it silently into the small room, and swiftly ducked back, closing his eyes.

A huge white flash, but no noise, erupted from the room. After a second, Data looked back in.

The three Aralla lay on the floor, stunned by the blast of pure energy. Stepping over to the console, Data quickly worked out which controls operated the docking bay. The long tube pulled the attack plane towards the compartment, turning it so that the stern mated with the airlock to Data's left. A red light flashed on above the airlock as the pressures equalised and then turned green. The door immediately swung open.

A single Aralla, carrying what was obviously a padd, stared at Data, as stunned as the android was. A blast from the phaser rifle sent him crashing to the deck. Data grabbed the body and threw it into the compartment. He stepped aboard.

Before him were three seats, the centre one raised slightly higher than the others by a dais, and it was this one that had the controls before it. Data deposited his equipment on the left seat, and settled at the controls. They consisted of a simple two-pronged steering handle, and a few buttons on the grips, probably linked to the firing system. He settled himself, and quickly checked the controls. They were covered with alien script, but symbols on certain buttons gave him clues as to how they worked.

He pressed a few, and was rewarded by the lights activating, running across the panels and the controls, lighting up the interior of the dark fighter. A surge of power, signalled by a loud humming noise, indicated that the engines were ready.

Data pulled the grips gently towards him, but gained no reaction from the craft. He pushed them forward, but there was still no movement. He scanned the panel, and saw a red illuminated button with a picture of what appeared to be a clamp on it. He pushed it, and the craft dropped slightly with a loud clang.

Clamps attached to the fighter released, and the tether from the compartment also fell away. Data pulled the grips towards him gently.

The little fighter shot forward, reacting to the slightest touch of Data's hands. The android realised what a superbly manoeuvrable little fighter this was, and why it had consistently outperformed the equivalent ships in the Fleet. He aimed it towards the entrance.

The fighter shot away.

The commander whirled in his seat, staring at the tiny fighter that zoomed away into the fog. He pressed a few controls, and then mentally snarled an order to destroy the fighter. The intruders had captured it.

As the attack plane soared past the pillars weaving gently to and fro between the pillars, Data relaxed into his piloting. He thought back to Worf's death, and the sadness which had accompanied it, but he also recalled Worf's last words. _Sto-Vo-Kor_. It meant that Worf had seen the afterlife for the honourable warrior, and would spend all eternity in the halls of the dead. Small comfort for Data, but for Worf it was the final achievement in the lives of the great Klingon warrior – an honourable death.

And for Worf especially, a Klingon raised among humans, who had clung to his culture and the Klingon way of life better than many Klingons raised entirely in their own society because it was all he had, it was an even greater achievement. General Martok would be highly proud, for he had taken a special interest in Worf.

He, however, would not have to explain this to Captain Sisko. No, that would be Data's difficult duty –

A salvo of energy pulses flashed past Data's fighter, rousing him from his thoughts. He jerked the fighter to port, avoiding another blast. He turned, and saw the squadron of Aralla ships hunting him. Another shot just missed him to starboard, and he swung the fighter into a series of evasive manoeuvres as he desperately searched for a way out.

Data ducked involuntarily as a beam of bright energy lanced out at him from one of the huge twisting pillars, forcing him to dodge. He twisted and turned the fighter, avoiding a storm of fire that erupted from the pillar, and he pulled away from it. Behind him, the Aralla fighters hung doggedly to his every move.

'Yes!' he shouted, spotting the huge opening that signalled the exit of the docking bay. He gunned the engines for all they were worth, and blazed towards it. He also pressed the armband to transmit the signal to _Voyager_.

'Bridge to captain!' Chakotay's alarmed call roused Janeway from her reading. 'We've received the signal!'

'Warp factor two! Get us into that area! Shields up! Red alert!' Janeway barked the commands as she got up and rushed onto the bridge.

She dropped into her command seat. Foster turned to her. 'Course plotted and laid in, captain.'

'Engage!' Janeway looked up at the main screen, thinking about the confrontation ahead. 'All hands to battle stations!'

To Data's surprise, the Aralla made no attempt to close the huge door that provided the artificial barrier to space. He coasted down the long passage towards space, evading the Aralla fighters' attempts to shoot him down.

He blazed out into space to see the hundreds of Aralla fighters outside all grouping together to attack – and no sign of _Voyager_. A salvo of fire launched towards him, leaving no room to hide. He covered his eyes, convinced that he had met his end –

The _Intrepid_-class starship appeared before him, no more than fifty kilometres dead ahead. The Aralla fire slammed into her shields, whilst Data barely forced his fighter underneath the _Voyager_, just avoiding a crash.

'Talk about nick of time!'

'Nice work, ensign,' congratulated Janeway. Foster's inspired piloting had landed them directly in front of the Aralla taskforce attacking Data's fighter. _Voyager _unleashed a broadside of phaser fire into the shields of the mother ship, providing cover fire for Data. The attack planes regrouped and opened fire on the starship, pounding the shields. A phaser beam, devastating in its outpouring of lethal energy, blew apart a pair of fighters, forcing the others to break off.

Kim suddenly spotted a worrying energy build-up and he shouted, 'The mother ship is preparing to fire!'

'All hands, brace –!' began Chakotay, but then the Aralla fired.

A thin beam of energy lanced out and struck the shields of _Voyager_. A huge concussion rang through the ship as she lurched wildly to starboard, throwing crewmen from their positions. Tuvok shouted as he fought to regain his position, 'Shields down forty percent!'

'This is Data!' called another voice over the commotion, and Janeway looked up. 'I'm directly astern of _Voyager_! Cover me and prepare to drop shields!'

'Drop shields! Are you crazy?' replied the captain angrily.

'Don't argue!' The channel cut, and Janeway turned her anger on the Aralla.

'Fire photon torpedoes, Mr. Tuvok!'

Aft, the bright projectiles slammed into the pack of fighters attacking both _Voyager_ and Data's fighter. A huge explosion ripped them apart, leaving only sparkling wreckage tumbling wildly from the conflagration to mark their passing.

The speaker suddenly activated. 'Drop shields!'

'Do as he says, Harry!' commanded Janeway. Praying desperately, the young ensign dropped the shields.

The fighter blazed towards the shuttle bay and reached the bay of the _Voyager_ in a second. Cutting the engines, Data held on for dear life.

It flew into the bay, uncontrolled, even by Data's firm grip on the controls. Then, it jerked hard to a stop, throwing Data forward, and he barely prevented his head from hitting the console before him. He looked at the shuttlebay bulkhead, two meters away. Four tractor beams had caught him and now held the attack plane securely in place.

Janeway looked around at Kim, who said, 'The plane is aboard, Captain!' The captain swivelled quickly, to face Foster.

'Ensign, plot an escape course! Warp –'

The mother ship fired again, but this time, _Voyager _was unshielded.

A massive blast threw _Voyager_ to starboard again, but the explosion blew out one of the main EPS conduits on the bridge, knocking out the lights and starting a massive blaze in the science consoles. 

Janeway grabbed the edge of the helm console, watching as Foster programmed the course change in. Illuminated by the flickering firelight, she waited until the change was correctly inputted and then said, 'Engage!'

As she said that, the mother ship fired one last time, blasting the stardrive section. A huge ball of fire burst from the underside of the starship.

On the bridge, the explosion rocked the _Voyager_ so hard that everybody was thrown about. Janeway lost her grip on the console, and was thrown hard across the bridge. She was carried over the bridge rail, and crashed into the aft science consoles with a sickening crunch.

Chakotay stumbled forward to the helm, from where Foster had been thrown, and hammered in the engage command.

The starship soared over the mother ship, trailing fire and avoiding the last Aralla fire. Clearing the battle, she lifted her warp nacelles, and vanished into warp.

Tuvok ran to where Janeway lay, her head in a strange position. He looked at Kim. 'Beam the captain to sickbay!'

'Are we being pursued, Tuvok?' asked Chakotay, relinquishing the helm to Foster, who cradled her arm with a grimace of pain.

Tuvok stood over Janeway's body, not hearing Chakotay. The first officer leaned over the rail to stare at the tactical officer. 'Are we being pursued, Lieutenant Commander?'

Tuvok turned and stared into Chakotay's eyes, fire blazing there, something that Chakotay had never seen from the cool Vulcan. Just then, Harry Kim said, 'Energising,' and Janeway's body turned into light, and vanished.

Tuvok breathed deeply, and the fire vanished. He stood, and made his way to his console, watched by a worried and frightened Chakotay, who had thought that the Vulcan might attack him. 'The mother ship has remained in position.'

'Is the attack plane aboard?' asked Chakotay of Kim, trying to keep his mind on the job in hand, putting his worries about Janeway to the back of his mind.

'Yes, Commander,' said Kim tensely, his face upset.

Chakotay deliberately slowed his heart down by breathing deeply and calmly. 'I'll be in sickbay,' he said. 'Stay here!' he ordered Tuvok.

The Vulcan nodded tightly. Chakotay left the bridge.

In sickbay, the Doctor worked feverishly at the surgical table in a desperate attempt to save Janeway's life. Chakotay came in just in time to see the EMH throw down a laser scalpel in fury. The Doctor looked up to see Chakotay's worried face, his own haggard.

The EMH took a deep shuddering breath, and faced the first officer. 'Commander, it is my terrible duty to inform you that Captain Janeway is dying. I cannot do anything for her. At the moment she's under a general anaesthetic on life support and she can survive for a few days like that. However, if I bring her out of it, even on life support she'll die in a matter of minutes, but I can counteract the pain with a local anaesthetic.' Chakotay's face grew grim, and his eyes filled with more pain at the burden.

'If you leave the anaesthetic on, she'll die anyway but she'll never wake up?' he asked after a moment, his voice raw. The Doctor nodded silently. Chakotay made the worst decision of his life. 'Switch off the anaesthetic field.'

'Are you sure, Commander?'

__

'Yes!' shouted Chakotay. The Doctor took a step back, and Chakotay held out his hand, apologetic. 'I'm sorry. She would not want to die if she thought the battle had been a failure. She deserves to know that we succeeded. I owe her that.'

The EMH nodded slowly. He turned to the bio-bed, and pressed a control. He turned to Chakotay, face solemn. 'I'll leave you alone.'

He turned and left, leaving Chakotay looking at Janeway's pale face. 'Captain?' He took her hand, cradling it in his.

Janeway opened her eyes. Chakotay felt his heart stop for a moment as he saw the pain in her eyes. 'What's happened? What am I doing here?' Chakotay gripped her hand, determined to tell her the truth.

'I'm sorry, Captain. You were critically injured during the Aralla attack. The Doctor couldn't do anything for you.'

'The mission?' whispered the captain, her voice weak, but eyes determined.

'A success. The Aralla did not follow us, and we have the fighter onboard and safe.'

Janeway's body relaxed, her eyes closed and for a brief second, Chakotay feared she had left him. Then her eyes opened again, and stared resolutely into those of her friend's.

Slowly, her hand gripped one of the pips on her collar, and strength fading, she pressed it into Chakotay's hand. 'Commander Chakotay, I hereby promote you to Captain of the USS _Voyager_, under my authority as a captain in Starfleet,' she gasped out.

Her voice trailed away and she stared at her first officer one last time. 'Take them home,' she whispered.

Her eyes closed, her head fell back, and she stopped breathing.

From the far corner of the sickbay, the Doctor watched, silently, as Chakotay pressed her cold hand to his cheek and wept for Kathryn Janeway.

The Doctor appeared on the bridge, his mobile emitter on his arm. The entire bridge crew looked at him anxiously.

Finally, Tuvok asked, in a shaking voice, 'Doctor, how is the captain?'

'Captain Janeway died a few moments ago,' said the Doctor, his voice bitter.

Torres slammed a fist onto the console, Kim turned away, and Tuvok bowed his head, Vulcan composure broken at last. He fought to get a grip on himself, and stared at the EMH as the hologram continued, 'Her last act was to promote Chakotay to captain in her place. However, he is not yet ready to resume his duties.'

Tuvok nodded. 'Tell him that we will be waiting for him.'

The Doctor nodded, and vanished again.

'Lieutenant Torres,' said Tuvok, 'prepare for transwarp. We must return to the Fleet.'

Torres nodded sadly, and activated the drive. 'Who will tell the crew?' she asked.

Tuvok stared into space. 'I do not know.'

Chakotay emerged from the sickbay, face drawn and pallor pale. Walking down the corridor as if in a trance, he drew worried and shocked stares from the crewmen he passed, but those he ignored, angry and devastated as he was. In one clenched fist he held the single pip of rank.

Then, Data emerged from one of the side corridors. 'Commander Chakotay?'

Chakotay stopped dead in the corridor, before slowly turning an fixing a hate-filled glare upon the other officer. 'What?'

'I wished to speak with Captain Janeway. Is she on the bridge?'

Chakotay's next words were a hissed whisper, fury written strong in every syllable. '_Captain Janeway is dead_.'

Data nodded slowly. 'I am sorry. I would assume that you are the new captain?'

The storm of Chakotay's rage broke hard against the shores of his consciousness. '_Yes, I am!_' His shout resounded through the corridor, leaving him shaking and pointing a finger at Data. 'You are responsible for that, android! A great officer lies dead in sickbay because of your actions! I am captain because of you, and I _hate_ you for that! You will be aboard this ship until we reach the Fleet! Make sure that I don't see you for any of that time!'

Face red, body shaking with anger and distress, Chakotay turned and stormed down the corridor, leaving the shocked Data in his wake.

Chakotay stepped onto the bridge of the starship, calmer now, but still hurting inside. It was typical of Starfleet regulations that after the horrifying death of one of his closest friends, he would be forced to take her place over immediately. But he owed it to Kathryn.

The bridge crew turned their gazes upon him. Tuvok, resolute, but pain flickering in his eyes, nodded slowly to him. Kim, face devastated, watched as Chakotay stepped to the centre of the bridge. Torres exchanged a glance with him, and Chakotay could see her hurt.

For a moment, Chakotay managed to release his pain and horror. The crew was wounded by the death of the strong unifying factor at the centre of _Voyager_, for Janeway had welded this disparate group into a strong family by the force of her personality. Her loss might rip this crew apart, but Chakotay did not intend for that to happen. They had lost too much for that to happen now – Tom Paris, Seven of Nine....

Chakotay took one glance around the bridge, before he said, 'All hands. This is Captain Chakotay. A few short moments ago, Captain Janeway was killed during the Aralla attack. Her final act was to promote myself to captain of this crew.'

Chakotay paused a moment. 'Kathryn Janeway often referred to us as "family", and in a sense, she was right. We are the unique blend of Maquis and Starfleet crews, under her tutelage and leadership. She was our "mother", as well as our captain.'

He took another deep breath. 'And, like all families, we have had the bad times as well as the good times. This is a bad time. Loss has afflicted us all. And now a bright light has gone from the centre of our lives. We must continue, not allowing this to tear us apart. We are still in the middle of the Delta Quadrant, but we are now closer to home than we have ever been. Captain Janeway would have wanted us to stay to help the Fleet against the Aralla, and I intend to do so.' Chakotay stopped, and realised that there was nothing more he could say. 'I want us to make Captain Janeway proud – if I know this crew, we will. Chakotay out.'

He turned to look at the bridge crew, and noted that despite the sadness that remained, they looked buoyed up by his speech, and determination, saddened as it was, had entered their stances.

Chakotay turned to face Tuvok, and glanced at Kim and Torres. 'I would speak with you in the captain's ready room.' Somehow, it did not yet feel right to call it his own.

As the door closed behind Kim, Chakotay faced them all, stood in front of Janeway's old desk. 'Captain Janeway's death has left a hole that I intend to fill quickly. We cannot afford this to affect our morale too steeply.'

'I agree,' said Tuvok in his solemn voice. 'I suggest that we hold a memorial service for the captain.'

Chakotay took this in. 'I'll think about it. Captain Janeway always impressed on me that we have to concentrate more on the future than on the past – a wise decision, considering the way in which this crew was born. I'm not sure that that might be counter-productive.'

No-one responded, so Chakotay moved on. 'The first act must be to reaffirm and consolidate the command structure. We've lost two key bridge personnel and we need to replace them. I am captain now, and I need a first officer. Mr. Tuvok, I want you to be that officer.'

Tuvok nodded, acknowledging the logic in the decision. 'I am honoured.'

'You will be promoted to full Commander. B'Elanna, I want to promote you to Lieutenant-Commander. You'll also become second officer.'

B'Elanna frowned, but did not question the decision. 'Thank you, Chakotay.'

'Harry,' said the Captain, 'I've decided to place you in charge of Astrometrics now. You're promoted to Lieutenant.'

Harry tried to look pleased, but could only muster a half-hearted smile. 'Thank you, captain.'

Chakotay looked back at them all. 'I like the circumstances of your promotions as little as you do, but needs must. We need to get back onto an even keel as soon as possible, and I know that you will all do the best you can to accomplish that.'

'We will do our best,' agreed Torres. 'We always have.'

Chakotay nodded sadly. 'Dismissed.'

After they had left, Chakotay turned to the desk behind him. Before he had come to the bridge, he had retrieved his medicine bundle from his quarters, and this he now unwrapped.

He took the tattooed stone from the wrapping, and clasped it in both hands. He whispered to the spirits of his forefathers. 'I ask that you guide a friend on her spiritual journey. She has died, knowing only pain and loss. Grant her safety, and make her journey successful. _Akootche-moya._'

'Sir,' said Commander Hedly's voice, and Picard glanced up. 'We've received a transmission from Captain Data on the _Voyager_. He wishes to speak with you.'

'Patch him through,' said Picard, dropping the padd he was working on, and swivelling the viewer on his desk. After a moment, Data's face appeared.

'Admiral,' greeted the android. 'We have successfully completed the mission. We have captured an attack plane.'

Picard smiled broadly. 'Excellent! Now we can begin planning for the final battle.'

Data nodded, but Picard noticed that the android looked unhappy. 'Data? Has something happened?'

The android nodded again, his face becoming miserable. 'I'm sorry, but Worf was killed during the away mission.'

Picard stared at the android for a moment, before closing his eyes briefly and whispering, '_Sacre merde!'_

'I was forced to disintegrate his body,' said Data. 'He died fighting the Aralla.'

'As he would have wanted to,' said Picard quietly. He seemed to take this information and press it down. 'Very well. Any more news?'

Data nodded sadly. 'Captain Janeway was killed in the last exchange with the Aralla mother ship.'

Picard exhaled hard. 'This fighter has come at a high cost, Data. I hope you're right about it's use.'

'So do I,' agreed Data. 'I will present a full report to you once _Voyager_ arrives back at the Unicomplex.'

'Good,' said Picard. '_Enterprise_ out.'

The screen blanked out, and Picard rested his elbows on the desk, burying his head in his hands. After a moment, he pressed the communicator. 'Seven of Nine to my ready room.'

After a moment, the ex-drone stepped through the door. 'You wished to see me, Admiral?'

Picard nodded. 'Sit down, Seven,' he said, motioning to the seat before him.

Seven did so, her impassive gaze trained on the Admiral. Picard ran his small speech once more through his mind, and then said, 'I regret to inform you that Captain Janeway has been killed in action against the Aralla.'

Seven stared at him for a moment before she whispered, 'How?'

'Details are sketchy at the moment. All I know is that in an exchange of fire between the Aralla mother ship and _Voyager_, Captain Janeway was killed.'

Seven closed her eyes for a brief second, and when she opened them again, Picard could read the pain inside them. For a moment, he was reminded of looking in the mirror after one of the nightmares that plagued his sleep regularly. 'If it would be acceptable,' said Seven eventually, 'I would like to spend some time with the crew of _Voyager_ once they return. Captain Janeway was extremely important to all of us.'

Picard nodded. 'By all means. However, we need you to continue supervising the refits....' The unspoken question hung in the air. Seven responded.

'I will not neglect my duties, Admiral. The refits will continue.'

Picard nodded again. 'Very well. Dismissed.'

Data stood staring at the attack plane, dark against the shuttlebay, held in place by the tractor beams that had prevented its crash. _Voyager_ was only a day away from the Fleet, but he awaited their return impatiently. The news of the Aralla plans had worried him severely, as he knew that it rendered all of their preparations for the coming battle worse than useless.

The blood that had paid for this fighter was on Data's hands. At absent moments, he sometimes found himself rubbing his hands together agitatedly. He would stop himself, but he would still do it, later....

Guilt pervaded his mind. Data had hoped that his lingering despair over Odo's and Riker's deaths would have faded, but his guilt over those of Janeway and Worf still remained. So he would come down to the shuttlebay, stare at the attack plane, and hope that it's use would outweigh that which it had cost.

And sometimes, if he was in a very paranoid state of mind, he would feel that he was being watched. He always put that down to the very organic look of the fighter, and also that he was in a receptive frame of mind.

He was wrong.

The small creature barely understood where it was. It stared silently at the tall shape in the corner of the bay, analysing, preparing, but never striking.

It was barely sentient by any normal stretch of definition, but still remained self-aware. Outside of the sustaining tanks, it was weak and defenceless, and needed a body to reside in. The mind had to be weak, ready for captivity.

That mind was not here, it's faint telepathic abilities told it. It settled back into the attack plane's shadows, waiting – prepared to wait as long as possible to accomplish it's task, one that was programmed into it's very genetic structure.

It waited.


	20. A New Home

__

Chapter XX

Data stepped onto the bridge of the _Defiant_, the hardest duty of any Starfleet captain bearing heavy upon his shoulders. Captain Sisko turned to look at him, weariness in his eyes. The long hours of tolerating the Borg refitting his ship had taken their toll on his patience. 'Yes, Captain Data?' He tried to rally his voice, but it came out flat and tired. Kira and Dax, also on the bridge, glanced at him, worry in their eyes.

Data took a deep breath. 'Captain Sisko, on our last away mission, Commander Worf and I managed to penetrate the Aralla defences and steal an attack fighter.'

Sisko looked at him, suddenly knowing the next sentence, horror rising in his eyes. Dax rose from her seat, fear and dismay visible in her expression.

Data continued miserably, 'Unfortunately, Commander Worf was killed –' Dax turned away, choking off a sob - 'during hand to hand combat with the Aralla.' He paused. 'He saved my life.'

Dax leant over the helm, shoulders heaving as she wept for her love. Kira had bowed her head, and Sisko stared, dumbstruck, at Data. Slowly, he raised his hand and pointed at the android. '_Get off my ship._'

'Captain Sisko, I –'

Sisko took a step towards Data, face frozen with anger. '_GET OFF MY_ _SHIP!_ _'_

Data recoiled from the force of the shout, and fled from the bridge.

Sisko rested his hand on Dax's shoulder gently. 'Dax – Old Man –' He stopped, not knowing what to say. 'I'm sorry.'

Dax didn't turn to face him,. but she said, 'He died with honour.'

__

Voyager had arrived more than two hours before, and Picard had called a meeting with the Battlegroup commanders, anxious for them to hear Data's report as much as he was. However, the android had not yet arrived at the briefing, and Captain Sisko had declined the offer, preferring instead to read Data's report.

At the moment, Gul Dukat paced along the side of the room, speaking in a disbelieving tone. 'Many of our ships are badly damaged. We have lost some valuable personnel and equipment in this war. The fleet is badly disadvantaged by these losses. And now you suggest a frontal attack on the Aralla!'

Picard nodded. 'Correct, Dukat. The Fleet is very nearly ready for battle again. Advance patrols are scouting for new base of operations, we have new Borg refits on our ships, complete with more powerful weapons and transwarp drives. We also have the full co-operation of the Collective, as well as the invasive program, and our tactical data on the Aralla ships, plus the information that the attack fighter will yield to us –'

'All of which is useless to us if the invasive program fails,' interrupted Daimon Kreal. 'This entire attack is based upon a theory. If it fails, the fleet will be destroyed. How can you condone placing the survival of the galaxy on an assumption?' Picard leaned forward, certainty in his eyes.

'I would trust Data with my life, and have on several occasions. If he tells me he can defeat these invaders, I believe him.' Picard paused and glanced at the four before him. 'However, you are correct. If the invasive program fails, then it is up to you to get the hell out. If you need to, let the Borg cover you while the Fleet escapes. I'll leave that to the man on the ground to make that decision.'

'The man on the ground?' asked Jaled. 'Will you not be commanding the Fleet during the battle?'

Picard smiled at them enigmatically. 'I will inform you as to that when the time comes.'

Martok glanced across at Jaled, who returned the glance with a puzzled shrug. Picard smiled again, glad that he was keeping them in the dark.

At that moment, Data walked through the door, his stiff posture immediately telling Picard that his friend's emotion chip was deactivated. Picard responded in kind. 'Data, your report please.'

Data nodded impassively, and activated the screen on the bulkhead. Picard's mind flashed back for a second to a memory – Data in the same position, outlining the capabilities of the Aralla ships before their first attack, to Riker, Troi, Geordi, Beverly –

Picard pushed the memory aside, and concentrated on Data. The android displayed a map of the galaxy with a series of red lines on it. 'This,' he said without preamble, 'is the Aralla advance thus far.'

Gasps of horror ran through the room, and coming from such hardened warriors as Dukat, Martok and Jaled, it was even more surprising. Picard merely slumped slightly in his seat as Data continued, 'Using transwarp drives almost certainly captured from destroyed Borg Cubes, the Aralla have managed to destroy each and every M-class planet that rests between their origin point and this point here.' He indicated a small red dot at the base of the screen.

'What is at the second point?' asked Jaled.

'The mother ships. They have sent all of their city destroyers in several groups of indeterminate number and indeterminate composition to rendezvous with them there.'

'How did they do this and get past our patrols?' asked Martok, stunned.

'Simply by using the transwarp drives to skim past us during our negotiations with the Borg. That was the only time that we occupied enough.'

Dukat stared, horrified, at Data. 'You are telling us that they could have attacked us at any time, without warning, in the last –' He waved a hand aimlessly in the air, indicating his frustration at the situation.

Data said, 'Anytime in the last five months, I believe, yes. Now, we are prepared –'

'How?' asked Jaled. 'How do you prepare for an invincible enemy that can suddenly drop right into our laps, without any warning?'

'You can't,' said Kreal pessimistically.

'How do they know we won't just run through that gap in their defences and retreat back to the Alpha Quadrant?' asked Jaled.

'I think they believe that we need to destroy them as much as they need to destroy us. And they're right. We have to face them eventually, so why not here?' said Dukat. 'I think they know that we're not going anywhere.'

Picard agreed silently, but he glanced at Data. 'What else have you discovered?'

Data turned to the map, and displayed a map with the lines lengthened. 'We have worked out that the Aralla attack will commence in five weeks from now.'

'How do you know?' asked Dukat.

'The Aralla are using the position of the Unicomplex in order to co-ordinate their attack. We are at the exact centre of the co-ordinates they are attacking. They will reach their final destination in five weeks, and from there, they will attack us.' Data was presenting these theories as facts, allowing the generals before him no room to manoeuvre.'

'So,' said Picard, 'your recommendations, gentlemen?'

'We need time,' said Jaled. 'The Aralla cannot be allowed to make their attack at will.'

Picard nodded. 'I agree. However, we only have five weeks. The modifications to the Fleet will not be complete by that time.'

'Can we not send out harrying parties, designed to slow down the Aralla advance?' asked Martok.

'Unlikely,' said Dukat. 'The Aralla are invulnerable. All they would have to do is ignore you, and there would be nothing any of us could do about it.'

Martok nodded slowly. Picard spoke up. 'I for one do not want to lose any more ships than we have to. If the Aralla have set up colonies in the Alpha Quadrant, we will need every ship that we have to take them back.'

He gazed at the others with steely eyes. 'I have formulated a plan, one that needs refining and adapting, but one which I hope will give us victory over the Aralla.'

The others all nodded. Picard outlined the first stage in simple, brief terms. 'We need to find an M-class planet rich in dilithium deposits.'

'I've already pinpointed three, sir,' said Data immediately.

Picard grinned at him, pleased by his first officer's efficiency. 'Let's hear them, Captain.'

'Vegryo VII, about seventy light-years from here is the best option. Alvaris VI is also a possibility, as is Bosnar III.'

Picard nodded and faced the others again. 'We have three options, and Battlegroups Alpha, Beta and Delta will explore them. The important thing is not to be caught by surprise. Kreal, Martok, I need you to set out right away. Martok, you will investigate Alvaris VI, while you, Daimon, will explore Bosnar III.'

Martok and Kreal made as if to stand up, and Picard raised a hand. 'There is one last thing that I want you to do.'

They all looked at him, surprised. Picard handed out a series of padds. 'When we first formed the idea of a united Fleet, as I think the Fleet is becoming, I told you of a formal alliance that I wished for us all to enter into. I know that I speak to the representatives of the major governments in the Fleet at this moment, and I wish for all of you to discuss this plan with your governments in exile, before you make any decisions or comments. I expect you to contact me in the next week and give me your approval or disapproval in the next week. I expected to have longer, but we no longer have the luxury of time.'

The four leaders nodded slowly, not quite comprehending, and Martok and Kreal took their leave. Picard looked at Dukat and Jaled. 'I had a feeling at least one of you might stay.'

Jaled nodded. 'As you know, you are the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire, Admiral. I do not see what this decision has to do with us. You are the final authority.'

'You know as well as I do that the Romulan people themselves have not been informed,' retorted Picard angrily. 'I've spent the last four weeks preparing this damn document, and I've done enough researching and looking around to know that they haven't been informed of anything. What's the game, Jaled?'

Jaled nodded slowly. 'You are indeed correct that we have not informed the Romulan people as to our decision –'

'I thought the Romulans prided themselves on their sense of democracy,' sneered Dukat.

Jaled winced very slightly at the jibe, and he turned a sad gaze on Picard. 'We are beaten, Admiral,' he said, very quietly, 'beaten and broken. The Romulan Empire was the first to be attacked, both back in the last century and at the beginning of this war. We have constantly been driven back, and our troops have suffered some of the worst casualties.'

Picard could not deny those facts, and it was certainly true that the Romulans had suffered greatly at the hands of the Aralla – but no more than any other race. He said so. Jaled nodded. 'Yes, I know that is how you look at it, and personally, it is the way in which I view the problem. However, the Romulan people are, by nature and dogma, prone to believing themselves superior to all others. We believed that Romulus and Remus were the Promised Land, effectively _Vorta Vor, _Romulan heaven, when we arrived and settled there after the Sundering. And now, we have lost everything. A non-Romulan could not understand this impact, although I am sure that the same general feelings reside in everyone in this Fleet. The Senate could not inform our people of the appointment of an outsider – a human – as Praetor. It could easily have caused a revolt against the Fleet and your leadership. It could have split the Fleet at a critical moment.'

Picard nodded slowly. 'I had not realised that the problem was that serious. In hindsight, maybe I should have.'

Jaled shrugged. 'It is of little consequence. Either way, the Romulan people must not - _will _not – find out. You are Praetor, but we cannot inform the Romulan people yet. They need two things – first, a victory over the Aralla.'

'Well, everybody needs that,' said Picard. 'And the other?'

'Alliance,' said Jaled. 'We need an alliance.'

Picard nodded, and realised that part of his plan was complete. With that, he knew that it would be easier to create the tentative vision that was rising in his mind. 'Very well,' he said aloud. 'Read the padd. You will be pleasantly surprised.

Jaled nodded, rose and left the room. Dukat eyed Picard for a brief moment. 'Are you not going to put the Fleet on full alert?'

Picard shook his head. 'There is no need for alarm. The ships are all fully crewed and ready. We cannot prepare any better for a surprise attack than we can for one we know is coming. I will not keep the Fleet on tenterhooks unless I feel it is absolutely necessary.'

Dukat nodded. 'I know what is on this padd,' he said, brandishing it for emphasis.

Picard nodded as well. 'I know you know. I'm just a little surprised that you didn't decide to blow my cover the second I even mentioned it.'

Dukat shrugged and turned to look out of the window. 'They can find out in their own good time. Myself, well –' he broke off and looked back at Picard, his face shrewd. 'The Cardassian Union is broken – dead and gone. We can never bring it back. And I assume that you realise that the Federation cannot return, as well as the Ferengi Alliance and the Klingon and Romulan Empires.'

Picard nodded, glad that someone else interpreted the situation as he did. 'I see we think alike, Dukat.'

Dukat smiled. 'Cardassians are realists – we deal with what we can achieve, rather than what we want. I want the Aralla dead – all of them. My people want that too. But more than that, I want peace. I am a war leader – I led the Dominion alliance with Cardassia. I am also a man who wants nothing more than peace and a safe place for my children to grow up in. I have failed to provide that so far. Now, I feel I have a reasonable chance of doing so, at last.'

Picard frowned, unsure of Dukat's meaning. 'I don't –'

'Grand Admiral Picard,' said Dukat formally, posture straightening to military attention, 'on behalf of the Cardassian people, I present a petition for alliance with the United Federation of Planets.' He held out a padd that he carried in with him.

Picard smiled slightly and stood. 'As Grand Admiral of Starfleet, I accept your petition.' He took the padd. He sat again, and looked straight at Dukat. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely. 'You have made things a lot easier.'

Dukat nodded. 'I know. I assume that details will be on the padd you gave us.'

'Of course.'

'Good. When will we learn the results of our petition?'

'Once the other applications have been received, then I will notify you. In the meantime, I request only that you read that proposal. Any comments, you know where to find me.'

Dukat inclined his head, and left the room. After the door closed, Picard clenched his fist in a gesture of victory. He had both the Romulans and the Cardassians! With a little luck, Martok and Kreal would soon also give their acceptance of terms.

He was winning.

Data, stood almost forgotten at the back of the room, stepped to Picard's desk. 'Well done, sir,' he said.

'Thank you,' replied Picard. 'I was most surprised by Dukat, though.'

'As he said, the Cardassian mentality tends towards realism.'

Picard nodded. 'Was there anything else, Data?'

'Although most of the information is on my report, there is one little piece of information that I did not want to mention with the others around, sir, and one that you need to know about now.' Data told Picard all about the parasites, and at the end of the briefing, Picard's face was one of utter dread.

'You say that the Aralla had incubation tanks onboard their ships?'

Data nodded. 'They had all of the equipment that would be necessary to keep the parasites alive and breed them. I find it very likely that they are the immature Aralla, and that they are used as shock troops or spies, as they were in the conspiracy.'

Picard cursed, remembering that those parasites had come very close to taking over the whole of Starfleet, until he and Riker had ended it – bloodily. He still had occasional nightmares about what they had been forced to do to Dexter Remmick in order to kill the parasites.

Picard put his head in his hands. 'I am now beginning to get a handle on the Aralla and their invasion,' he said. He motioned for Data to take a seat, and proceeded to give what he believed to be the history of the Aralla invasion. First, he outlined what Seven of Nine had told him about the Borg invasion of Cralzon, Boral and Aralla space, and their eventual defeat and retreat. Then he elaborated it with what he knew.

'The Borg, rather fortunately for us, left a small presence in Cralzon space after their withdrawal and the Aralla victory. I believe that they did this because they thought that if they found a way to penetrate the Aralla defence, they would be able to launch their attacks again without having to send another invasion force through. However, I digress. The Borg observed all Aralla activities after their withdrawal, and it is from there that I get this information.

'The Borg assimilation of the Cralzon and Boral gave them sketchy information about the Aralla, their physical make-up and their social structure especially. The Aralla were, in many ways, as much of a mystery to their partners in the Triumvirate as they are to us. When the Cralzon had first approached the Aralla about an alliance, they were rebuffed sharply, the Aralla claiming that they had no interaction with inferior races.'

'They called us vermin,' murmured Data.

'Correct,' said Picard. 'The Cralzon were not instinctively a warlike race – in many ways, their society was much like the Federation. The Boral acted like the Cardassians, and the Aralla much like the Romulans in those early days. However, over time the Cralzon managed to persuade the Aralla as to the benefits of an alliance, and the Triumvirate was born, almost a thousand years before the Borg came. The Aralla have a long history. Borg records indicate that they had had a spaceborne civilisation for nearly ten thousand years. However, the Borg forced them to become totally spaceborne. Before they were driven out, the Borg successfully staged a strike on the Aralla homeworld, destroying it totally. The Aralla were forced to shift their entire population, nearly eight billion, onto the mother ships and begin a nomadic existence.'

'Sir? A question?' At Picard's nod, Data continued, 'Why did the Aralla simply not shift their population onto another planet, instead of putting them into the mother ships?'

'A simple answer. The Aralla decided that the immediate objective was the expulsion of the Borg, but that took so long that the Aralla had grown used to their nomadic, locust-like existence. It became a case of if it isn't broken, don't fix it. The Aralla pursued the Borg all the way across the galaxy until they drove them back through the dimensional gate. The Aralla never learned exactly where the Borg came from, but I believe that they thought the Collective was once part of the Cralzon Empire, and that they had been betrayed by the Cralzon in an attempt to gain control of the Triumvirate – an attempt that backfired.'

'A little far-fetched, Admiral.'

'Maybe, but not when you consider the Aralla mind-set. They instinctively believe that they are the superior race, and that all others are below them. They followed that belief when they were approached by the Cralzon, when they fought the Borg, and in this war. The Boral believed that it was a rebellion by a race from within the Cralzon Empire, but the Aralla did not even concern themselves. They made an all-out effort to eradicate every other lifeform in the galaxy. As they drove the Borg back, they attacked planets that harboured life of any sort with a savagery that they displayed in this universe. That was when the Aralla first came to attacking defenceless worlds, simply because they believed that each planet harboured rebellion against their rule. Most of the worlds in the Cralzon, Boral and Aralla Empires were technologically primitive. Those that weren't were usually eliminated.

'However, I again have wandered off the track. The Aralla drove the Borg away, and began their roaming of the galaxy, intent on their destruction of every other lifeform. Remember, the Borg incursion took place four thousand years ago. The Aralla spent the time after the war wandering from planet to planet, destroying the populations, stripping the planet's of their resources, and moving on once the planet was exhausted. They carry their entire race in hibernation – something that your scans revealed.'

Data nodded slowly. 'The mother ships, not the city destroyers, diverted vast amounts of power into hibernation units. I wasn't quite sure why until now.'

'The city destroyers probably use that same power to energise the superweapons. Oh, and incidentally, the Aralla have names for their ships. The attack planes are _Swarm_-class fighters, the city-destroyers _Cyclops_-class destroyers, and the mother ships are _Colossus_-class.'

Data frowned. 'They sound like human names.'

'Correct,' said Picard. 'They are. The Aralla invaded Earth about four hundred years before the start of this war.'

'So Earth is destroyed there?' said Data pessimistically.

'On the contrary, the Aralla were defeated and destroyed totally.' Picard looked past Data's shoulder, a faraway look in his eye. 'When the Aralla made their attack, Earth was at the equivalent of late twentieth century technology. Humans had had no contact with any extra-terrestrial races, and warp speed was only just being considered to theoretically possible. The Aralla changed that. The Borg, by the way, observed this particular battle with interest. They had already discovered a small planet in this universe called Earth – they wanted to see how they would react to invasion.'

Data stared at Picard. 'They knew that Earth existed in the twentieth century? They didn't assimilate it?'

Picard shook his head. 'The Borg were only concerned with their assimilation in this Quadrant – Earth was a small planet on the other side of the galaxy, one which they earmarked for assimilation at a later time. When they first encountered the _Enterprise-D_ in sector J-25, they realised that we were from Earth, the centre of the UFP. This was a surprise to the Borg, and they realised that they had to assimilate Earth rapidly, as the Federation would be a threat to their power.'

Data nodded slowly. 'Earth was lucky.'

Picard smiled faintly. 'Yes, you're right. The Borg had a Cube nearby, which observed the short battle over Earth in the other universe, so we have some information on how the Aralla were defeated. The Aralla struck without warning, as is expected, and destroyed many of Earth's major cities in the first attack. The reply was swift, but it failed spectacularly. The Aralla shields were easily enough to keep out the weapons being used – primitive air to air missiles from small jet aircraft. Attempts were made using nuclear weapons on the Aralla ships – to no avail.

'Then, the next day, another counterattack was launched – which was successful in destroying the Aralla city destroyers. But the big surprise was when the Aralla mother ship that was orbiting Earth suddenly exploded. Somehow, the primitive technology of those people managed to get behind the Aralla defences, lower their shields, and destroy the mother ship.'

'A shock for the Aralla, I assume,' said Data.

'And the Borg as well,' said Picard. 'They immediately performed a series of abductions and assimilated a few humans. Apparently, one of them had been involved in the plan to defeat the Aralla. They had captured a small attack fighter, got into the Aralla mother ship, uploaded a primitive computer virus, and destroyed the Aralla mother ship with a nuclear device. All with twentieth century technology. Amazing.'

Data nodded, impressed. 'I believe that the Aralla would have tried again.'

'On the contrary, the Aralla left Earth severely alone. A mistake as it proved. They were so surprised that they could not react – if they had attacked again immediately, they would have almost certainly destroyed Earth – humanity was barely able to fight off the first attack. However, much in the same strange way that major wars or cataclysms tend to precipitate, humanity became united across the globe. The Borg continued to observe as humanity, within a hundred years, discovered faster than light travel, more powerful weapons and set out to explore the galaxy. The first thing they found was the trail of death that the long war with the Borg had left, and then the ravages of the Aralla had exacerbated. This led them to the conclusion that the Aralla had to be eliminated.'

'What did the Aralla do?'

'They could do little. Somewhere in the intervening time – it was two hundred years after the Aralla attack on Earth that the humans first encountered them again – they had learnt to bring down the Aralla shields at will and destroy them. The Aralla, complacent in their superiority for so long – both mental and technological – were unable to fight back. They needed to develop weapons such as the ones that they have here. They couldn't – for whatever reason.'

Data interrupted him. 'Captain, I believe that the Aralla copy technology. They did not have any form of hand-held weaponry before they encountered us. They had to use extensive tracking devices just to hit the _Enterprise_ in their first attack. Now, they use weapons that do not have to track ships. The only weapons that do are the primary weapons on the underside of the city destroyers. How is it possible that they could not do so in their own universe?'

'They've not copied human weapons,' mused Picard thoughtfully. 'Only Romulan and Klingon mainly. Cardassian and Starfleet weapons are based on phaser technology, whereas Klingon and Romulan weapons are disruptor weapons. Could this be something to with the way in which we construct our weapons?'

'What do the Borg say about human weapons in the alternate reality?'

'They sound like phaser weapons from the description given. Beams of energy, phased energy rectification, no photon torpedoes. Still using nuclear devices for strikes on the _Colossus_-class ships.' For a moment, Picard's voice was faraway, communing with the Borg. Then, he came back to reality.

Data was eyeing him cautiously. Picard gave him a grin. 'Sorry, Data. That happens when I delve into the archives like that.'

Data nodded, still not sure of the exact nature of Picard's link with the Borg Collective. 'The energy cannons mounted on the attack planes changed energy signatures between the battle for Romulus and the battle for Qo'nos. The mother ships and city destroyers were only using energy weapons from the battle for Earth. They all appear to be disruptor-based, even that cutting beam they've developed. That's new. And not only weapons. They're using warp technology, based on our warp engines as far as I can tell. And transwarp –' Data broke off. 'I can't quite understand how they do it.'

Picard shook his head as well. 'I know. The Borg have no information on it either.'

'Your history again, Admiral,' said Data, putting the problem from his mind.

Picard nodded. 'After the humans first attacked the Aralla, they pushed them back steadily. Ship after ship fell to them. Humanity pushed them back into their own space – Earth was in a tiny corner of Boral space; that was how they survived the Borg war – and beyond over about ten years. They finally fell back to a large planet that orbited a small star in the corner of their own space. Out of a starting total of about four hundred _Colossus_-class mother ships, they had forty. And, they knew, humanity was preparing for a final strike against them – one that would obliterate the Aralla race forever.'

Data nodded, finally seeing how Aralla history had led them to this universe. 'I suppose that the Borg moved in for a closer look.'

'Not quite. The human fleet that was building up to attack the Aralla ran into a party of Borg Cubes that was following them. After a failed peaceful contact, the humans managed to get aboard the Borg ships – much in the way we did when we first contacted them. And the Borg struck back – much in the same way they did to us.

'And the humans annihilated them. A swift, vicious counterattack that destroyed all four Cubes in five minutes. The Borg still don't know how they did it.'

Data frowned. 'What then?'

'The humans decided that the Borg were a more immediate threat than the Aralla – and they set off to eliminate them. The Borg realised that they had made an even more implacable enemy than the Aralla, and they decided to retreat fully from that universe. Their last contact was about thirty years ago, when the humans finally found their main Unimatrix. And that is where the story ends.'

Data nodded. 'Well, at least we now know why the Aralla hate both humanity and the Borg specifically.'

'Definitely,' agreed Picard. 'They must have thought they were going to die when they came through the gate to find us waiting for them.'

'And when they realised that we didn't know who they were and were defenceless against them -–' Data broke off. 'No wonder they're trying to exterminate us.'

Picard stared thoughtfully at the android. 'I wonder what's happening on the other side of the gateway? Are the Aralla still waiting to come through? Has humanity destroyed them? I wonder.'

'There is one last question, Admiral,' said Data. 'Why do the Borg call the Aralla by their name, rather than as a species and number?'

Picard shrugged. 'I am not certain. Indeed, the Borg are not certain themselves. The Aralla are not even the most dangerous race the Borg have ever faced, or the only ones that can resist assimilation. But there is something in the Aralla that genuinely worries the Collective, something that the Borg either want to have or want to destroy. I can't tell what it is, and the Borg won't tell me. But I want to know.'

Data nodded. 'Very well, Admiral. I shall attend to my duties.'

Picard was vacant now, ignoring Data. After a moment, he glanced up, but the android had gone.

Reg Barclay stared for a brief moment at the attack plane, as it was lowered into place by the combined tractor beams of _Voyager_ and the _Enterprise_, now facing stern to stern, transporting the fighter from one to the other's shuttlebay.

Finally, the Aralla fighter came to rest and Barclay nodded to his assistants to shut the beams off. He tapped his commbadge. 'Barclay to _Voyager_.'

Kim's voice came back. '_Voyager_ here.'

'You can shut down your tractor beams now,' the engineer instructed.

'Will do. Thanks for taking it off our hands,' said Kim. '_Voyager_ out.'

At the same moment as _Voyager_ cut the communications link, Barclay saw the blue beams of energy vanish from their grip on the attack plane. Barclay smiled slightly, and turned to his colleagues. 'Good job everyone. Go and get cleaned up and report to Engineering for debriefing.'

The four engineers all wore relieved grins on their faces as they left the shuttlebay, chatting idly amongst themselves.

Barclay made to follow them, but stopped when a scrabbling sound came from the other side of the bay. He turned, puzzled, and heard the noise again, like a claw scratching against a door.

He moved towards where he heard the sound, and when it came again, he realised that it was coming from the attack plane.

Under procedure, he should have immediately called security, but his curiosity was piqued. He stepped closer to the attack plane until he was stood alongside one wing. A small, dark shape lunged out of the darkness and hit him in the face. Stunned, Barclay fell without a sound.

Slippery sounds, like rubber on flesh, emanated from the bay, so quiet that they did not carry. A whimper of pain came as well, before silence reigned.

After a brief pause, Barclay emerged from behind the plane and strode purposefully towards the door. As he did so, he caught sight of his reflection in one of the shuttlecraft windows, and stopped for a moment.

He nodded, as if pleased, and then wiped away a smear of stark red blood at the side of his mouth.

Barclay left the shuttlebay, leaving the darkness to close in on the fighter.

Captain's Log: Stardate 53404.8 – Battlegroup Alpha's first mission is to explore the planet of Vegryo VII that has been earmarked by Captain Data for colonisation for the Fleet. I have taken the liberty of ordering full alert until we reach the planet – our travels in the Delta Quadrant have not always been peaceful. The crew of the _Defiant_ is bearing up well after the twin blows of Commander Worf's death and Doctor Bashir's departure for the _Enterprise_. I look around me on the bridge, and try to forget the old times – but the memories keep coming back to haunt me now and again.

The _Defiant_ led Battlegroup Alpha, all nine hundred ships of it, into orbit of the small, unexceptional green planet called Vegryo VII. An uninviting name, reflected Sisko sourly, but not an unpleasant planet.

'Order all Romulan ships to break off and remain in high orbit. They've got the best weapons and shields. Klingon _Vor'Cha_ cruisers to form into Alpha-1 and Alpha-2 as we discussed. All other ships to follow,' said Sisko to Kira, who transmitted the orders.

The Romulans moved into a higher orbit while the Klingon attack cruisers split into two groups, one of which moved back out of orbit into a holding position above the northern pole, while the other moved into the same position over the southern pole. From there, they had an uninterrupted scanning range across the entire starfield, while the Romulans were able to keep guard around the equator. In theory, a slightly pointless exercise, it had the effect in practice of forcing the Klingons and Romulans to maintain contact at all times. Sisko was becoming more and more shrewd every day, something Picard had been able to spot at an early point in their voyages together.

The _Defiant_ itself remained in standard orbit, as would most of the other ships. Four _Ambassador_-class starships and two _Oberth_-class vessels descended lower than the others, and began mapping the surface, scanning for dilithium deposits and suitable landing sites.

The main job was fairly tedious, thought Sisko. In the main part, this job did not require the services of the entire Battlegroup, but he needed to get a feel for commanding so many hundreds of ships, as well as the experience of using so many different configurations and capabilities together. For the first time, he was beginning to get an idea of the difficult job that Picard had done so well for the last few years, albeit on a smaller scale, and coming to respect the man even more for it.

However, the people and commanders inside the Battlegroup needed to get used to working together as well. General Martok and Daimon Kreal had left before Battlegroup Alpha, and Sisko knew that they had also taken their full command with them. Martok's was the largest of the Battlegroups, carrying most of the super-heavy starships, such as the _Galaxy_-class and the bulk of the Romulan Warbirds and _Keldon_-class Cardassian warships. Kreal was weighted more towards Ferengi Marauders and _Galor_-class warships.

Klingon birds-of-prey were scattered fairly evenly throughout the Battlegroups, as were fighter craft. Sisko's own group was weighted towards _Defiant_-class starships, and the Klingon attack cruisers. Dukat's group included the largest blend of ships, comprising ships from some of the lesser fleets within the main structure, while Jaled held sway over a group of Romulan Warbirds and the majority of the smaller Klingon cruisers. The Battlegroup specifications that Sisko was musing over were very general, for the majority of all the ships in each Battlegroup were Starfleet vessels. Only two Battlegroups actually predominated in any designs of Starfleet craft – Sisko's and Martok's. In all other cases, a goodly proportion of each class was under the command of each general.

Picard had chosen and distributed the ships under his command well. Sisko's eye, however, kept drifting back to the make-up of the sixth Battlegroup – Battlegroup _Enterprise_. A ten ship personal bodyguard for the _Enterprise_ was all well and good – but unnecessary in Sisko's opinion. Why did Picard not subsume the _Enterprise_ into another Battlegroup, automatically taking command of the group?

Sisko could not fathom out the reasons for Picard's decision to do so, and he didn't believe that he ever would -

'Sir, I've got a communication from the _Ga'Roth_,' said Dax.

'On screen,' said Sisko. A Klingon face, that of Commander Kalless, appeared on the main viewer. 'Your report?' asked Sisko.

'My scanners have picked up a flight of ten ships approaching our position, Captain. Bearing 578 mark 557.'

Sisko nodded curtly. 'The _Defiant_ is on its way.' As the screen blanked out, Sisko glanced at Kira. 'Order Squadrons A-1, B-4, and C-8 to join us. Dax, take us to the head of Alpha 1.'

The _Defiant_ left its orbital position, and soared up to join the Klingon ships, followed closely by ten Romulan Warbirds, three birds-of-prey and ten Defiant-class warships. Sisko didn't believe in taking chances.

As the _Defiant_, followed by its escort, moved into position, Sisko turned to Kira again. 'Order all ships to go to yellow alert.'

Kira nodded, and transmitted the command. Dax turned to Sisko. 'Commander Kalless is asking to speak with you again.'

Sisko nodded. 'On screen –' He broke off when Kalless appeared on the screen before he finished his order.

'What is the meaning of this? There are enough –'

'That is _enough!_' bellowed Sisko, his countenance never changing despite the force of his voice. 'I am your commanding officer, Commander, and I will have an extra escort whether you like it or not. Is that clear?'

Kalless nodded nervously, his face now respectful. 'Understood, Captain.'

'We will make contact with the unidentified ships. If we require assistance, we will go by the book. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir,' said Kalless. '_Ga'Roth_ out.'

As the Klingon's face disappeared, Dax turned and gave Sisko an approving nod, which Sisko acknowledged. 'ETA of unidentified ships?'

'Two minutes,' said Dax.

Sisko stared at the screen, watching the other ships of his group form into a protective wing, just as he had laid out for them during the long journey between the Unicomplex and Vegryo VII. Finally, the moment arrived.

'Tracking ten ships dropping out of warp on the port bow,' said Kira. 'Battlegroup is adjusting position to compensate.'

'On screen,' ordered Sisko.

The screen changed the view of the starfield slightly to show ten ships, all elongated shell shapes, reminiscent of Kaelon warships that fought in the Fleet. Wide stern sections tapering down to a narrow point, each ship was about six hundred metres in length.

Sisko frowned slightly. They watched silently as the ships turned slowly, and faced off against the Battlegroup. 'Any sign of weapons powering up?'

Kira shook her head. 'Not so far.'

Sisko nodded, his face thoughtful. 'Hail the lead ship.'

Kira did so, and the response pleased her. 'They're responding.'

'On screen.' On the main viewer, a face appeared, one clad in shining armour, and wearing a face mask that obscured the appearance of their features. Sisko gazed calmly, waiting for the other to speak.

'I am Alpha of this group.' That seemed to be all that the growling, slightly mechanical voice seemed willing to say.

'I am Captain Benjamin Sisko of the Federation starship _Defiant_,' replied the Starfleet captain. The Alpha leaned forward slightly.

'So Janeway lied. She said there were no other Federation ships in this quadrant,' growled the Alpha.

'No,' said Sisko. 'I'm sure that when Captain Janeway gave you that information, she did not know any different. Our presence in this region is recent.'

If the Alpha believed him, he did not display it. Instead, he grunted and sat back. 'Why are you here? What is your interest in this planet?'

'We merely wish to make a base of operations here,' said Sisko. 'We have been forced to take refuge because of attack –'

'That is no concern of mine,' said the Alpha abruptly. 'You will vacate the area. The Hirogen have no interest in you or your kind. This planet is ours.'

'Is it possible that we can –' Sisko broke off when the Hirogen Alpha deactivated the comm-link.

Sisko glanced at Dax and said, 'Have the exploratory group completed their scans?'

Dax shook her head. 'Two minutes.'

'Sir, those ships are moving,' warned Kira. Sisko glanced up to see the Hirogen squadron start to advance slowly towards the _Defiant's_ position.

'We're receiving communications from the other ships in the squadron, sir,' said Ensign Garth. 'They're requesting permission to attack.'

Sisko stepped to his chair and activated his link to the entire Battlegroup. 'This is Captain Sisko. All ships go to red alert, raise shields. Do not attack until ordered to. _Defiant_ out.'

'All ships acknowledged,' said Kira.

'Tell the _Orient_ to give us the scan results the moment they complete them,' said Sisko. The USS _Orient_ was the ship in charge of the survey taskforce orbiting the planet. 'How many ships do we have facing the Hirogen?'

'Fifty, sir. The majority of the Battlegroup is still in orbit of Vegryo VII.'

Sisko nodded. Dax looked up at him. 'Captain, do we have to do this? Can't we just let them have the planet? General Martok or Daimon Kreal will strike gold at either of the other possibilities, so can't we just allow the Hirogen to have this planet?'

Sisko sat down in the command chair and glared for a moment at the Hirogen ships that still approached the group. 'This Fleet is now the major power in the galaxy, other than the Aralla. We will not be dictated to.' A glimmer of Sisko's old charm flickered for a moment beneath his grim demeanour as he smiled. 'Besides, we were here first.'

Dax nodded after a moment's consideration. She glanced at Kira, though, and her expression was worried. The Bajoran returned the feeling.

Ensign Garth suddenly spoke up excitedly. 'Sir, we've received the telemetry data from the _Orient_. They've discovered vast deposits of dilithium crystals, as well as excellent landing sites and colony areas.'

Sisko turned to look at the screen. 'That tears it,' he murmured. His voice was suddenly stronger. 'Dax, get me a channel to the lead Hirogen ship.'

Dax worked, and said, 'Channel open.'

The Alpha's face appeared. 'We have ordered you –'

'And now I'm telling you,' interrupted Sisko. 'This planet is ours by right of discovery – and if you fight, it will be ours by right of conquest. Get out of this system, or we will open fire.'

The Hirogen paused for a moment, and then nodded to Sisko. 'You will fight. That is good. The hunt is on!' The channel cut.

'The hunt is on?' echoed Kira. 'What the hell sort of gibberish is that?'

'It's called fighting talk, Major,' said Sisko. 'All ships, this is Captain Sisko. The Hirogen have resisted us, and we're going to teach them a lesson. Ready weapons and shields, but let them take the first shot.'

'Sir,' said Dax, her voice concerned, 'those ships have hulls composed of monotanium armour. We won't be able to get a lock on those ships due to the scattering effect it has on our targeting scanners.'

Sisko nodded. 'Does the problem affect any non-Federation ships?'

'The Ferengi ships use a similar targeting system, but Romulan and Klingon ships don't. They should be okay.'

'Tell all Romulan and Klingon ships to report to this position. And order _Defiant_ squadrons B-1 and C-8 to fall back to holding positions.' Sisko glared at the screen again.

'What the hell are they waiting for?'

The Romulan Warbirds and Klingon Attack cruisers, flanked by birds-of-prey, all moved out of orbit, heading for what was turning into a tense waiting game. Abruptly, that deadlock was broken.

'Ten more Hirogen ships dropping out of warp to starboard, sir,' warned Dax. 'Another ten on our port quarter. They're powering up weapons, as are the first group.'

Sisko sat down. 'Red alert. Battle stations. Let them fire first, and then take attack pattern alpha.'

The Hirogen ships roared out of the starting blocks with startling speed, firing yellow beams of energy into the force before them. The _Defiant_, reacting swiftly, managed to avoid the first salvo, which slammed into the shields of the Romulan Warbirds approaching.

As the _Defiant_ brought herself around, Sisko watched calmly as the other ships opened fire on the Hirogen vessels. Green Romulan disruptors cut into the shields of the Hirogen vessels, as the Klingon birds-of-prey harried them with disruptor fire.

The _Defiant_ finally levelled off, and charged at the nearest Hirogen ship, firing her phasers wildly. The pulses struck the larger vessel amidships, and it replied with a fierce barrage of energy beams. The _Defiant_ swerved away, but following it's attack were a pair of Romulan Warbirds, flanked by six Klingon birds-of-prey, which unleashed a storm of fire into the Hirogen ship. After a brief second, the Romulan ships added their fire to the barrage, and pummelled the Hirogen mercilessly. After a brief second, the Hirogen tried to make a getaway, but to no avail. The disruptor fire broke through its shields, punched through it's armour, and blew apart the warp core.

As the Romulan and Klingon ships pulled up and away into the rest of the battle, the Hirogen ship exploded into shards of spinning metal.

Sisko nodded, satisfied with the performance of the Battlegroup. He watched as another Hirogen ship was destroyed, their armour unable to stand up to the sheer volume of fire that the Romulans and the Klingons were unleashing.

A pair of starships, the USS _Corona_ and the _Stratos_, flanked a pair of Klingon attack cruisers in much the same way as they attacked two Hirogen ships. A salvo of yellow energy crashed into their shields, but they held firm as they opened up in return. Quantum torpedoes and phaser beams hammered the Hirogen before the Klingons joined in. One Hirogen ship tried to pull away, but the _Corona_ and the _Stratos_ pursued, leaving the Klingons to deal with the other. The second ship crumpled under the barrage, blowing itself apart, as it's companion was harried by the Starfleet vessels.

Sisko was also pleased with his deployment – mixing heavy cruisers with escorts of smaller, more manoeuvrable craft. _Defiant_-class starships and birds-of-prey accompanying heavier Warbirds and _Vor'Cha_ cruisers at the moment, but they were easily deployable in other ways.

Few ships were lost in the battle. For the most part, they were Klingon birds-of-prey getting a little too ambitious. The heavier cruisers stood up to the attack well, co-operating excellently with each other.

In short order, the Battlegroup pushed the Hirogen back. Only eight Hirogen vessels were destroyed outright, but two more were badly damaged and four were trailing fire. In short, Sisko's group could have devastated the entire fleet, but Sisko felt that he had taught them a sufficient lesson.

'Get me the Alpha,' he said. Dax did so, and the Hirogen appeared on screen. His face was bloodied, and smoke wreathed the bridge behind him. Sisko gave him a steely glare. 'I repeat my warning, Alpha,' he said. 'Leave this system. We've shown you what we can do. Don't let yourself be torn apart.'

The Hirogen stared at him for a long moment. 'One day, Captain, I will hunt you down and destroy you. That hunt will be glorious. But now, I am outnumbered and outgunned. I submit to you, but I am not defeated. We will return.'

The screen blanked out and Sisko watched as the Hirogen turned away and limped into warp speed. He pushed a control on the comm panel next to his chair. 'All ships, stand down from red alert. Well done.'

He looked at Dax. 'Signal Admiral Picard. We have secured Vegryo VII. And it's everything it's cracked up to be.'

Sisko turned and left the bridge. Dax sent the message, and turned to Kira. 'Are you worried about him too?'

Kira nodded. 'He's a lot more intense now than he used to be.'

'That's one way of putting it,' replied Dax. 'I'm very worried, Nerys.'

Kira smiled slightly. 'You're repeating yourself.'

Picard was seated in his ready room reading reports from Martok and Kreal when the call came through. Martok's report was frustrating – Alvaris was a washout, and Bosnar, despite containing high deposits of dilithium, was undergoing severe geological upheaval.

'Bridge to Admiral Picard.' Thames' excited voice broke through the fog of his concentration, and Picard looked up. 'We've received a report from Captain Sisko. Vegryo VII is secured and fulfils all criteria.'

Picard breathed a sigh of relief. 'Order all ships to prepare for immediate departure.'

'Sir, Vegryo VII is a long way away. How are the Borg going to complete their modifications to the Fleet if we're so far away?'

Picard smiled slightly. He had been waiting for that question. 'Well, Commander, we'll just have to bring them with us.'

He stood, put down the reports, and stepped onto the bridge. Thames turned, giving him a puzzled look. 'Sir, I don't understand –'

'Watch,' said Picard, and faced the screen. 'Commander Hedly, put the Borg Unicomplex on screen.'

Hedly complied, and the giant shape of the Unicomplex, surrounded by it's vast entourage of Borg ships, appeared. With a single impulse of will, Picard gave his order.

There were no complaints, no doubts – just compliance. For a brief second, Picard found himself liking the feel of having no arguments, no resistance. Then, he remembered that was why the Borg were so reviled and dangerous – they could not resist an order given, would not disobey a plainly insane one – because the very nature of the Borg was such that any order given was automatically right. Thus, if the Borg was insane, the Borg _were _insane.

Picard could see the activity around the Unicomplex now – ships being secured, systems being readied by drones all around the giant structure.

'When all ships report ready, inform me,' Picard said, facing Hedly. 'Until then, I shall remain in my ready room.'

Picard turned, and re-entered his ready room. Thames glanced back at Hedly. 'Seems slightly pointless bothering to come out,' she remarked.

Hedly shrugged. 'He's the admiral.'

Bashir sat in his office aboard the _Enterprise_, going through the crew's medical records, standard practice for any newly assigned CMO, when Hedly's voice interrupted his thoughts. 'Bridge to sickbay.'

'Sickbay here,' answered Bashir.

'Doctor, we've got a call for you, from the CMO aboard _Voyager_. Do you want to take it?'

Bashir set his padd down and said, 'Put it through.'

A face appeared on the viewer before him, and he sat upright in surprise as the face of Dr. Lewis Zimmerman looked up at him. 'Dr. Zimmerman!'

The face smiled in embarrassed denial. 'No, I'm the EMH of _Voyager_. Dr. Zimmerman was my creator. I simply look like him.'

Bashir nodded, realising that all early EMH programs had looked like Zimmerman. 'Ah, yes. I remember overhearing that you had become CMO.'

'Unusual circumstances breed unusual solutions,' said the EMH philosophically.

There was a pause, and then Bashir said, 'What can I do for you?'

The EMH paused, and then memory flooded back to him. 'You have a crewmember aboard from _Voyager_, Seven of Nine.'

Bashir nodded. Seven of Nine's medical record had been one of the first he had checked. He found the padd and called up her details again. 'I have them here.'

'Have you spoke with her yet?'

'Not yet,' replied Bashir. 'In fact, I don't think I've met her.'

The EMH looked slightly amused. 'Oh, well, that's an experience I wouldn't want to miss. Anyway, I wished to speak with you regarding her psychological condition.'

'She has a problem?'

'Not as such,' said the EMH after a moment's consideration. 'You have heard of regressed mental states, I assume?' At Bashir's nod, he continued, 'Most of these cases come from childhood – a mental defect sometimes, possibly during pregnancy. Seven is different.'

'Wait a second. You're telling me that a member of this crew is mentally regressed?'

'Not quite,' hedged the EMH. 'Seven's case is not unique, but it is unusual. She was assimilated by the Borg at an early age. She spent most of her life in the Collective, and was only recently freed. Thus, she has had to learn social interaction skills and so on from myself primarily, and the crew as a whole.'

Light dawned. 'Ah, I see what you mean. Have you a mental growth diagram?'

The EMH looked pleased at Bashir's intuition. 'I do, as a matter of fact. I'll transmit it, if you like.'

'Please.' The EMH pressed a few controls on an off-screen console, and then glanced up at Bashir, who said, 'I'd like to know why you didn't put this in your medical evaluation.'

'I didn't feel that it was appropriate. I've never actually told Seven that I've been charting her progress – I think she would have been offended. Plus, I like to keep things like this confidential. Now that you know about it too, I hope that Seven will be in the best of hands.'

A bleep came from the console, signalling to Bashir that the information had been downloaded, and Bashir quickly accessed it. He glanced through it, and then looked at the EMH. 'She progressed from emotional and social age of nine until about fourteen in three years. Not bad.'

'Not bad at all, considering she was almost completely asocial when she came aboard, and had a mental age of about thirty and an IQ of more than 200,' replied the EMH matter-of-factly. 'Her mental and intellectual attributes aren't the problem. What concerns me is that at a very delicate period in her development, she is entering a new social structure and a very important role.'

'You are concerned that she might not be able to fulfil the job?' asked Bashir.

'Not at all,' said the EMH hastily. 'I'm more concerned with the adverse effects that the pressures of her emotional development combined with a difficult role may have on her. Seven is a very dear person to both myself and the crew. What with the death of Captain Janeway combined with her other changes –' The EMH broke off, leaving Bashir wondering what he had been about to say.

'What changes?'

'I'm not at liberty to say,' replied the EMH uncomfortably.

'I need all the information possible,' said Bashir. 'I can't do my job without it – and it would be unfair on Seven of Nine.'

The EMH stared into space for a second before coming to a decision. 'Very well. This is absolutely private and confidential – don't speak with anyone other than Seven of Nine about it. Very delicate,' he added, although Bashir had already gained that impression.

'Seven of Nine, like many people who have had her condition, is discovering new facets to life almost continually. Some things are simply mundane, everyday, actions, but others are more special.' The EMH paused. 'Seven is falling in love for the first time.'

Bashir let out a breath and scowled at the hologram. 'You waded through all of that to tell me –'

'Please let me finish! It is far more than that. I have reason to believe that it may be a serious problem that might hurt Seven's progress severely.'

Bashir nodded, beginning to wonder what he had got himself into.

The EMH calmed himself, and continued, 'Seven is, as I have said before, a very delicate point in her development. I suspect that Starfleet policy does not include having starry-eyed teenagers aboard the flagship of a warfleet, and it is a critical matter.'

'With respect, Doctor,' said Bashir, 'I honestly can't see a problem. If it is effectiveness on the job you are concerned with, that falls in the prerogative of ship's counsellor. If not, I don't see what I can do.'

'It is a medical matter – it affects her emotional health – and her development must be –' The EMH broke off, looking slightly stunned. 'I apologise, Doctor,' he said after a moment. 'I have suddenly realised something. I am not making this request as CMO of _Voyager_, but as Seven's friend. You must forgive me. I have wasted your time.'

'Not at all,' protested Bashir. 'I need information on Seven if I am to do my job properly. If I read your evaluation correctly, then it is a medical matter insofar as her regeneration cycle must be monitored and certain other functions must be continually surveyed. I can do my job in that sphere. As to her development of emotional characteristics, I can keep track, but I cannot form the same relationship with her that you obviously have. From my perspective, I have to do a doctor's job, rather than a Counsellor's job. I understand that you have had to double as Counsellor, so that explains certain things to my mind. My only surprise is your interest in her love life.'

The EMH looked embarrassed. 'The main difficulty with that is the way in which it has been directed. The object of her affections is a crewmember aboard this ship.'

'You are concerned about the long period of separation?' queried Bashir.

'Not quite,' said the EMH. 'When the Borg first encountered this Fleet, they killed one of our officers.'

Bashir nodded, thinking he understood. 'Thomas Paris?'

'That's right.'

'She was in love with him?'

'Hah, if only!' said the EMH. 'It would make this problem much easier. No, to answer your question. She is in love with his partner – B'Elanna Torres, our chief engineer.'

Bashir sat for a moment, and then sighed. 'Oh.'

'That was my reaction, as well,' said the EMH glumly. 'She is in love with the lover of a dead man, one killed by the Borg, and someone who dislikes Seven intensely.'

'I understand your concerns,' said Bashir. 'But as I said, it is really none of my business.'

The EMH deflated slightly. 'I understand. I only hoped....'

'I know,' said Bashir, 'but we can't heal every problem. Sometimes we just have to step back and let nature take it's course. I'll see what I can do, but I can't honestly do that much.'

The EMH nodded sadly. 'Thank you, doctor. I appreciate this. Just don't let Seven know I told you.'

Bashir smiled. 'Your secret is safe with me.'

The EMH nodded thankfully. '_Voyager_ out.'

Bashir leant back in his chair, musing for a moment. 'Strange thing to be concerned about.'

He picked up the padd again and scanned the evaluation he had read earlier on Seven of Nine. This one might bear closer consideration.

'Captain?'

Data glanced at Hedly, who said, 'All ships report ready.'

The android replied, 'Ask Admiral Picard to the bridge.' He resumed his examination of the view before him as Picard came from his ready room, looking decidedly cheerful.

'Report,' said the admiral, as Data vacated his chair.

'All ships report ready for departure,' said Data, and then he lowered his voice. 'Admiral, only two hundred ships in this sector have yet been fitted with transwarp. Captain Sisko's group is the only Battlegroup to be outfitted with full modifications –'

'I _do _know this, Data,' said Picard, giving the android a slightly hurt look. 'The journey is only seven days at warp nine. The majority of ships in the two outbound Battlegroups are outfitted with modifications – the only reason for giving us the modifications is to fight the Aralla. Warp speed is still perfectly acceptable in the current situation.'

Data nodded. 'Understood.' He sat in the first officer's chair, and Picard glanced at him worriedly before he, too, sat. Data had become very depressed and withdrawn lately.

'All ships are in primary launch positions,' said Hedly. Those ships were those equipped with transwarp engines, allowed to go first.

Picard nodded. 'Why wait? Order them to launch.'

Out of the massed ranks of starships, two hundred began to move. Faster and faster they accelerated until they suddenly vanished in multiple flashes of light. 'They've entered warp,' confirmed Thames. 'Preparing for transwarp.'

The ships on her scanner kept accelerating until they suddenly vanished. 'They've entered transwarp.'

Picard nodded, satisfied. 'Let's go. Ensign Truper, set course for Vegryo VII, maximum warp. Commander Hedly, order all ships to follow. Reverse angle on viewer,' he added.

The _Enterprise _moved out of formation and vanished into warp. The bridge crew watched, mesmerised, as the vast conglomeration of ships immediately aft accelerated towards them and reached warp speed. But the best was saved for last.

The Unicomplex, all five hundred miles of it, began to move. Slowly at first, like the movement of continents, but gathering pace. Along it's black surface, thrusters and impulse engines blazed in unison, forcing the vast structure into movement. Alongside came it's enormous retinue of Borg ships, moving as one, under Picard's command.

Finally, the Unicomplex jumped into warp speed with a massive flash of light. Thames stared at her instruments. 'Sir, the Unicomplex and accompanying Borg ships have stabilised their speed at warp nine point five.'

'Excellent,' said Picard. 'ETA to Vegryo VII?'

'At present speed, six days, ten hours.'

'Captain,' Picard said, turning to Data, 'how will this affect your estimate of the Aralla attack?'

'It depends on the speed at which the Aralla can pick up our warp trails. The sheer number of ships that jumped to warp so suddenly means that they will linger for weeks rather than days. However, the most optimistic estimate is only a two day extension.'

Picard nodded. 'Two days is better than nothing.'

'Agreed.' 

'Good.' Picard glanced at the padd he had carried through from his ready room, at a loss for something to do for the first time in days. Now, it seemed, there was nothing to do but wait.


	21. The First Step Towards Victory

__

Chapter XXI

Fleet Log: Stardate 53541.2 – The Fleet has reached Vegryo VII after a week at warp. As per my orders, the early arrivals have already begun work setting up new camps and bases on the planet's surface. It is odd, but I can already see through the expressions of the people in the Fleet that they are all buoyed up by the experience of having their own planet again. We are not equipped for the loneliness of being interstellar nomads. But I look at the stars more often now, waiting for _them_ to come out of that darkness. We have achieved so little in the long time we have had – are we truly ready for what victory will bring? I can only hope so – I am determined that the Aralla shall not win again. We make our last stand here – for death or glory.

Three camps arose quickly on the sandy plains of Vegryo's main continent, all huddled close together, like three limpets clutching the side of a rock against the tide. The three white buildings all stood apart, but a network of corridors permitted access between them as well as a series of turbolifts within.

The central camp was the hub of the activity – a co-ordination centre of sorts for the main business of the Fleet. Among others, Seven of Nine had set up operations there to direct the Borg/Fleet joint efforts in both mining for dilithium and also refitting the Fleet. Repairs were continuing apace. A large set of industrial sized replicators were installed here, as well as a giant engineering replomat for spare parts, powered by the dilithium being retrieved by the Borg from the planet's surface.

Picard made no visit to this area, despite its use as a command centre by the Battlegroup commanders. He was only interested in the prosecution of the war from his ready room, and paid little attention to the activities of the Battlegroups themselves, outside of their interaction in the main battle plan.

This irritated the commanders, especially Sisko and Dukat, who had thought that they had made some progress in getting Picard to retake control of the Fleet after his withdrawal. Little did they know, thought Picard, that this was part of the plan.

The second of the structures was larger than the command centre, housing the civilian population. For too long the civilians and innocents had been forced to be on battleships, constantly in the firing line of battle. This suited the Klingons, but not the others. Thus, they had built and erected a living section for the hundreds of civilians that had followed the Fleet across the galaxy.

The third structure was for the crews and officers of the Fleet – rest and relaxation areas, bars and other amenities. This was the area, believed Picard and his security advisors, that trouble might spring from, by the constant clash of cultures and old enemies. Thus, a high security complement was required here, mainly Starfleet, but also consisting of the other races. Slowly, the others were coming around to the idea of co-existing and working together.

Ben Sisko sat, with Bashir and General Martok, in one of the bars in the third complex, taking time out from their separate duties to meet and socialise – or at least Bashir and Martok were. Sisko was extremely quiet and withdrawn. Bashir had noted that his old captain seemed to have aged since he last saw him – grey tinged his temples and lines had appeared under his eyes. He sat and watched the bar with those dark eyes, expressionless, drinking his raktajino, offering only the occasional terse comment.

Martok on the other hand, hardly seemed to have changed. The war had shattered the spirit of the Romulans, stunned the life from Starfleet, and even quietened the Klingons, but Martok simply grew more and more robust and energetic every time that Bashir saw him. The moment he had seen Bashir wandering down the corridor with Sisko, he had bellowed for them to join him and dragged them to the nearest bar. He liked the Klingon, who seemed to be almost one of the classical warriors of legend. No wonder he and Worf had been so close.

Which did not explain his reaction to Worf's death. For the first time since he had met the Klingon, Bashir had seen him shrink, withdraw into himself for a brief moment. A flicker of bitterness had crossed his fierce face, and he had muttered something in Klingon. Then, he had nodded and regained his life again. The Klingons believed that death was the greatest honour of all, but something had hurt Martok – something beyond what Klingons would feel at a warrior's death. There was no doubt that Worf had died with honour – it was something Bashir was sure of – so what had Martok been worried about?

The General downed the last of his bloodwine, and gazed across at the Klingon soldiers in the bar. A large group of them were clustered in the corner, and they were watching the Romulans. 'Romulans and Klingons drinking in the same bar! Who would have thought it?' Martok said.

'I always said it would happen eventually.' Bashir's reply was slightly sarcastic. 'At least we're not fighting amongst ourselves.'

Martok smiled at him condescendingly and stood. 'I will be getting back to my Battlegroup. I have spent too much time down here.' He nodded to the two Starfleet officers, and began to walk away. As he passed the Romulans on the way to the exit, one of them said something that Bashir could not catch. The comment elicited a snigger from the other Romulans. Martok stopped, and turned to the Romulan slowly.

'Repeat that.' His voice was low and dangerous. The Romulan who had spoken stepped away from the group and faced the Klingon. The others with him spread out. Sisko flicked a dark glance at Bashir. The Klingons watched the confrontation interestedly.

'Why should I obey the orders of a stupid Klingon? Especially one who betrayed his own people?' Martok snarled at the Romulan.

Sisko turned to Bashir and said quietly, 'I recognise that Romulan. He's called Major Takar.'

'Watch out,' warned Bashir. The Klingon contingent had stepped behind Martok, and a few of them had drawn d'k'tahg's. Martok spread his arms in a gesture of challenge.

Sisko's eye caught the movement of three security guards heading for the fray, and he signalled to the leader of the small team to stop. The lieutenant nodded and held his men back, allowing Sisko to stand and move to the confrontation, in time to hear Martok say, 'Come on, let's sort this out here and now –'

'That's enough!' Sisko's voice cut across the confrontation. 'We stop this now!' Takar turned to him.

'Stay out of this, human,' he sneered. 'Or, when I have finished with this animal, I will kill you as well.'

'No, you won't, Takar,' said Sisko, moving closer to him. 'I'm your superior officer, and I'm ordering you to stand down.'

'You are not my superior!' shouted Takar, eyes possessed by hate. 'You are no Romulan!'

'We're not all Romulans,' said Sisko, sensing more than seeing Bashir moving up alongside him. He could also see the looks of uncertainty on the faces of the Romulans near Takar – obviously, they had not intended to get into a fight. 'I bet you serve alongside Klingons and Romulans and humans all the time.'

Takar didn't react, gaze locked on Sisko. The captain had never seen such naked hatred in anyone before, even those enemies who he had fought face to face. Takar's eyes spoke of true madness.

Sisko knew there was no reasoning – he also knew that Bashir had realised the same thing. This was confirmed when the doctor darted forward, and applied a hypo to the side of Takar's neck before he could react. The Romulan swung an arm at the doctor, but he collapsed to the floor in mid-motion.

The other Romulans all backed off after a moment, returning to their drinks. Martok relaxed, and dismissed the Klingon warriors behind him with a single wave of his arm. The tension around the bar dissipated after a moment after the Starfleet security team came in and removed Takar's slumbering form.

Martok turned to Sisko. 'Thank you, Captain. I have to apologise for my actions as well.'

'Takar was spoiling for a fight,' said Sisko worriedly. 'The others didn't seem overly interested.'

'Nevertheless, I apologise.' Martok nodded to both of them, and left the bar.

'What the hell was all that about?' asked Sisko, as he and Bashir took their seats again.

'I've looked at the medical files of everybody in the fleet,' said Bashir slowly. 'His indicates a strong xenophobia.' 

'That could explain a lot. A lot of people have those feelings in the fleet.'

'You'd have thought that they would have learnt by now. We can't fight amongst ourselves.'

Sisko nodded, and swallowed the rest of his raktajino. 'We should try telling the Klingons and the Romulans that.'

'I already have,' said Bashir, smiling. 'Seriously, the message is getting through, slowly. It's going to take time.' 

'Everything does,' said Sisko quietly, his face losing its animation and sliding away again. Bashir knew that he wouldn't be getting any more from Sisko.

Picard sat in his ready room again, watching a recording of the battle for Earth on his viewer when the comm bleeped at him. Surprised, Picard switched off the recording, and activated the communicator on his viewscreen. 'Picard here.'

Data's face appeared. Behind him, Picard could see the shuttlebay. 'Admiral, we've managed to activate the attack plane's power sources. We've got it working.'

'I thought you said we couldn't reproduce their energy source correctly.'

'They have a different power source, that's true, and we can't.'

'So why should it have become active, after being away from the Aralla fleet for so long?' Data glanced to the side, avoiding Picard's gaze.

'The Aralla power distribution network shows that they transfer power directly from source to object – by some unknown method – and that is what powers the city destroyers and the attack planes. This also provides their major weakness – but it also explains the reactivation of it's systems, sir. The Aralla are coming into range.'

Picard felt a chill run through his body. He hit the comm, ignoring Data for a moment. 'Picard to Thames.'

'Thames here.'

'Commander, run a check for Aralla ships. Any.'

'Aye, sir,' said Thames, and the link cut. Picard turned to Data again.

'I'm having the bridge check for the nearest Aralla ships.'

'Understood, sir. I don't believe that they will be mounting a strike for a while yet. I estimate –'

'I know the estimates,' said Picard gently. 'However, the Aralla may have changed their mind. I want to be ready.'

'Sir, if they do attack now,' said Data frankly, 'we won't _be_ ready.'

'I know, Data,' said Picard. He glanced up as the comm bleeped. 'Picard here.'

'Commander Thames, sir. I've completed the check. I've picked up four Aralla city destroyers moving approximately nine light-years away from here, on a vector consistent with Captain Data's projections. They are making no move towards us. I don't believe they even know we're here.'

'Understood.' Picard paused. 'Good work, Commander.' He cut the link and turned back to Data. 'You were right, Data. They aren't approaching.' Data nodded impassively. Picard continued, 'I want to come down and take a look at the fighter. Is Geordi there?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very good. I'm on my way. Picard out.'

The attack plane rested in the massive main shuttle bay of the _Enterprise, _dwarfing the assembled shuttles also inhabiting the cavernous hangar. Geordi La Forge and a team of engineers were moving around it, scanning with tricorders as Picard entered.

He stepped up to the fighter, giving it a thorough examination with his eyes. La Forge gave a few instructions to his team of engineers and moved to Picard's side.

'So, what do you think of her, then?' Geordi asked. 'Much as I hate to say it, she's quite a ship.'

Picard nodded in agreement. He pointed to the underside of the craft. 'Why is it clamped down?'

Geordi glanced over at Barclay, and said, 'Unclamp her!'

The other nodded, pressed a few controls on his padd and stood back. A hiss of released air filled the bay, and slowly, a series of large lever-like clamps swung away from the fighter, which rose into the air with a slight humming noise. Picard nodded, impressed.

From inside the craft came a loud clatter as a padd fell from the lip of a door that Picard had not yet noticed to the deck of the shuttlebay. Data's head peered out at the outside world. 'Admiral?'

'Yes, Data,' Picard confirmed. The android leapt from the cockpit, and landed lightly before the engineer and admiral.

'As you can see,' said Data, 'we've got most of the main systems active. Weapons, propulsion –'

'You said something about a weakness,' said Picard. 'What did you mean?'

Data looked nonplussed for a second, and then his face cleared. 'Ah, yes.' He glanced at Geordi. 'Can you call up the details?'

Geordi obviously understood what Data meant, for he nodded and moved to one of the free-standing consoles that were positioned along the walls of the shuttlebay. Data and Picard followed him slowly as Data quickly outlined what he had meant. 'The Aralla power distribution network is far more centralised than I expected, sir. A single source of power provides the resources for every ship.'

'So do our warp cores,' argued Picard.

'I apologise,' said Data. 'I was not clear.' He indicated a screen on the console for Picard to look at. It showed a miniaturised version of the _Colossus_-class cruiser with lines radiating out to smaller _Cyclops_-class destroyers, and from them to the _Swarm_-class fighters. Data pointed to the lines. 'These show how power is distributed from the mother ships to the smaller craft, all the way through to the attack fighters, which themselves contain no internal power source at all. These craft all have weaker power sources onboard, but their main source of energy comes from the mother ships.' Data looked straight at Picard. 'The key to defeating the Aralla is all about concentrations of power.'

'We've amalgamated the invasive program and the virus that you used against the Borg Queen to produce something that we think will disable and paralyse the Aralla ships – shutting down shields, weapons, propulsion – the lot,' said Geordi. 'If so, we can move in and destroy them without response.'

Picard nodded silently, allowing Data to continue, 'We insert the new virus into the Aralla main computer, using a small strike team aboard this fighter. And then once the shields are down, we attack.'

'Simple enough,' said Picard approvingly. 'Why can't we just transmit the virus from the _Enterprise_ like we did before?'

'Because of its nature – the infiltration of a computer system undetected – it needs to be inputted straight into the main computer network. That's the influence of the additional modifications?'

'Then why not just put the invasive program in?'

'The additional virus means that it can roam the system undetected,' explained Geordi. 'The invasive program would have made itself known through the geometric interface it uses – a quick-witted crewman aboard one of those ships could conceivably isolate and destroy it before it does any damage. However, it needs a direct interface to access the computers.'

Picard nodded, his face unhappy. 'That's the best option?'

'The only option,' stated Data with an air of finality.

Picard turned and looked at the fighter that dominated the bay. 'Very well,' he said finally. 'It appears that the destruction of the Aralla will not be as easy as I had once hoped.'

'Nothing ever is,' said Geordi philosophically, eliciting a faint smile from the admiral.

'Are all the components of a mission ready for deployment?' asked Picard, his tone slightly distant.

Geordi nodded affirmatively. 'Yes, Admiral.'

Picard turned various options over and over in his mind, debating and rejecting courses, plans and strategies in the blink of an eye. Finally, he looked at the others.

'Data, you are the only person in the Fleet who has had any flight time in one of these ships, so you will pilot this ship into the central mother ship.'

'Understood,' said Data impassively. He had known from the start that he was critical to the mission.

Picard looked at Geordi. 'I need you to install the program into a tricorder.'

'I've already done so, sir,' replied Geordi. Picard smiled again, remembering that his friend had lost none of his efficiency.

'Very well, Commander. I need you to remain onboard as Chief Engineer during the battle –'

'Admiral, no! I have to go! I need to go along on this mission!'

Picard frowned at him. 'Carry on, Mr. La Forge.' La Forge took a deep breath.

'The original program utilised a special form of access code which could only be given by my VISOR. It was a fail-safe in case it fell into the wrong hands. Although I don't have the VISOR anymore, my new implants can still give out that signal with a little adjustment, and I kept the access code because of the dangerous nature of the invasive program. I am the only person in the universe who can activate or deactivate that program.' Picard rested his head in his hand.

'How do you know?' Geordi smiled faintly.

'That program was designed to resist and destroy the Borg. Believe me, I made sure it was secure.'

Picard nodded, accepting the inevitable. 'Very well,' he said, not seeing a point in arguing the point. 'You're on the team.'

For a brief second, Picard saw a faint of trace of bloodlust rise in Geordi's eyes, and it was such an unusual expression on the normally gentle officer's face that he frowned. 'Thank you, sir,' said the engineer. 'You won't regret this.'

'I will be leading the team,' said Picard unexpectedly. Data and Geordi both stared at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.

'Sir, we can't possibly allow you to risk your life like this,' protested Data instantly.

'Is it wise to take the three most experienced officers in Starfleet on this mission, Admiral, including you, the commander of the Fleet?' added Geordi. 'I have no problem with going, but I can't allow –'

'I'm going!' said Picard firmly, cutting across their protests. In his mind, there was no argument. He had to see the Aralla pay – he could not do that from the bridge of the _Enterprise_. 'Ben Sisko will take command of the fleet in my absence. If either of you has a problem with that, you can take it up at the next briefing session.' By then, he would be so snowed under in protests, complaints and arguments that two more would make very little difference.

The two officers stared at him for a moment, and then nodded in tandem. Picard nodded. He glanced to the side, just past Data's right ear, and frowned at the shape of Reg Barclay, who turned away and left the shuttlebay. For a moment, Picard could have sworn that he was eavesdropping. He put it from his mind and looked at Data.

'Data, I want you to arrange a meeting of the Battlegroup commanders. Ask them to bring recommendations for promotions to senior positions in the new plans that I have asked them to look at.'

Data frowned at him, surprised by the unusual request, but then nodded. 'Aye, sir.'

Picard suddenly had a feeling that time was drawing the threads into one single point – he had to finish this now, before the Aralla arrived. 

'Your opinions,' said Picard. Unsurprisingly, everyone tried to speak at once.

It was a week since he had spoken to Data and Geordi. Three weeks before the date for the Aralla attack. Picard had paid his first visit to the surface command centre, to meet with the Battlegroup commanders, all assembled in one place for the first time. Martok, Kreal, Dukat, Jaled – all of them tried to make their opinions known.

'One at a time,' said Picard, his hand raised.

At that moment, before anyone could say anything, Sisko entered the room. 'I apologise for being late, sir,' he said automatically, before realising that everyone was staring at him, Martok looking as though he had been about to say something. 'Have I done something wrong?' he asked.

Picard threw a warning glance at the others, making them realise that he wanted them to drop the earlier topic. 'Not at all, Captain,' he said smoothly. 'We were just moving onto our next topic of discussion. The next battle against the Aralla.' He glanced at the others, preparing to drop his next bombshell. 'I intend to lead the away team onto the Aralla mother ship. I do not believe that such a crucial mission can be entrusted to any other.'

Sisko spoke up immediately. 'I cannot believe that you would want to go on such a dangerous mission – one that puts your life at great risk with no appreciable gain to the overall chances of success – while you spurn the chance to fight the Aralla face to face.'

Picard nodded, remembering that he had not shown Sisko the new plans. He had good reason. 'I accept your point, but I have ideas for the final battle.'

'Oh, yes?' asked Sisko acidly, but his voice was intrigued.

'Yes. The coming battle will be the first in which all of the Battlegroups have fought together. I want someone in command from the _Enterprise_ who knows the capabilities of those ships and squadrons better than I. Someone who has already commanded a Battlegroup.' He pointed straight at Sisko. 'You, in fact.'

Sisko's eyes widened in surprise, but he kept his composure. 'I cannot.'

'Yes, you can,' said Picard, unwilling to brook resistance. 'You are already second in command of this Fleet.'

Sisko sighed, sat down, and stared at Picard. 'Admiral, you've kept secrets from us for a long time now. Don't pretend that you haven't, because we know you have. All of us. Cards on the table. We're going to face the Aralla soon, and I refuse to take command of this Fleet unless you tell us all – now – what is going through your mind.'

Picard stared at Sisko for a long moment, in which he realised that the situation had been brought to a head. Finally, he nodded very slowly. 'Very well. You all have the information that I gave you?' His question was addressed to the other Battlegroup commanders behind Sisko, who all nodded silently.

'When we first came to the Delta Quadrant, we were beaten: rudderless, leaderless, about to collapse into infighting. We had no structure, no morale – the Aralla had fully defeated us. They had merely failed to destroy us.' Picard glanced at the others, and noted that there were no objections. They were intelligent enough to realise the truth of his words. 'I was so preoccupied with my own personal problems, agendas and... obsessions, that I failed to glean why we had even entered the Delta Quadrant in the first place.'

'To find the Borg,' interjected Martok.

'Correct,' said Picard, 'to your thinking. It was not to mine. I was running, and I was taking the Fleet with me.'

The others all stared at him blankly. Picard smiled faintly. 'I have told people many different versions of the history – all of which in a sense have been true. But surely you must have realised that my stories have all conflicted with each other as to certain perceptions and points of view. I have already explained part of this to you, Benjamin,' he added. 'But I always hid my reason, especially after Captain Janeway helped bring me to my senses. I have seen what we face – the devil –' He waved a hand at the window, indicating the looming Borg presence that could be just seen hovering over the pole '- and the deep blue sea. The Aralla, or the Borg.

'This Fleet has, unwittingly, changed the balance of power once again. For the first time, we are capable of exploring and ruling the entire galaxy – together. For all our previous power, we were all big fish in a little pond – the UFP the largest of all. The Aralla came into that pond – a shark amongst the goldfish. We were driven out of our comfortable lives and positions, driven into the open sea. We realised our weaknesses, our frailties, in the face of such hostility. But we also found that, pooling our resources as we have done, we can dominate and win victory. Between us, we control all of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants together – nearly half of the galaxy.'

Picard stared at them all, eyes shining brightly. 'We have been given access to the larger galaxy – something we never contemplated before – by the attacks of the Aralla and the technology of the Borg. We have used the devil, and we will fight the deep blue sea. And we will win. If we follow what I have suggested.'

Picard gazed at them. 'Total alliance. Between our six races, and the entire Fleet together.'

Sisko stared at him for a brief moment, smiling faintly. His face broke into a delighted grin at last, while the others all regarded Picard stolidly. They had all, of course, received advance warning, but it still shocked them to hear it spoken out loud.

'Are you fully apprised,' asked Jaled, his soft voice breaking the pause, 'of the consequences of your actions?'

'I am,' replied Picard levelly. 'I believe, fervently, that this is the conclusion that our long war – our trials and tribulations – has all been leading us to. In the post-Aralla galaxy, can we honestly afford to be alone any longer?'

There could be no answer to that question. The four leaders that were assembled in that room were all astute enough to realise that fact. Slowly, one by one, they placed the padds that Picard had requested onto the desk, an affirmation that they had accepted his proposals.

Picard nodded solemnly at each of them, realising the gravity of their decisions. 'I will call a convocation of the Fleet ambassadors,' he said slowly. This was the method of getting all of the representatives of each of the separate races in the Fleet not represented by the people in the room with Picard. 'We will draw up an official treaty, and sign it before the Aralla arrive. We will present them with a united front.'

'There is one thing,' said Dukat slowly. His voice was quiet, but the tone that filled it was mischievous. 'I see in your proposals no provision for a leader. How would you do that, I wonder?'

Picard smiled slightly. Dukat was keeping himself amused. 'I have kept this information back, you are right,' he said, not looking at the Cardassian. 'I believe that all of you expect me to take over the running of this alliance once the war is won.' He saw their head shakes and smiled. 'Don't deny it, gentlemen. I had the same plan in mind myself at one time.'

Picard watched as the realisation sank in, and they all looked slightly shocked. 'I have since decided that that would be a dangerous course for the Fleet to take – leading us to disaster down the road. I intend for a new President to take over the running of the alliance once the war is won.'

The others all glanced at each other before nodding in agreement. 'Who did you have in mind?' asked Jaled, trying to force Picard's hand.

'I will inform you at the relevant time,' said Picard, giving Jaled a warning glare, one which the Romulan serenely accepted. It was possible, he mused, that they had learnt that it was useless to argue with him once his mind was made up. Sisko still stared at him, stunned beyond belief. He only hoped that the other leaders had felt the same way.

However, he had their agreement. Implicitly, at least.

Picard realised that the other men were still staring silently at him, waiting for him to speak. 'It is difficult to know how to tell anybody the sort of information I have in mind, but I think that I know how. You have attached the lists of promotions as I asked?' They all nodded silently. 'Good. We will have a joint ceremony,' said Picard, thinking as he spoke, 'when we present the promotions. We will also announce the alliance, and I will personally announce the choice of leader.'

'Will we not elect the leader?' said Dukat suddenly. Picard gave him a surprised look, not having expected to hear that objection from a Cardassian. Dukat had decided to ask a pertinent question, but one he already knew the answer to. It must be for Sisko's benefit, Picard decided.

'Not initially. Once we return to the Alpha Quadrant and rebuild, I intend for elections to take place. We will have to establish a new government quickly and decisively.' Picard glanced at Sisko again, who had lost the stunned expression.

'Can we unite?' asked Sisko. 'Can we really put all of our past difficulties, hatreds and conflicts behind us?'

Picard stared silently at Sisko for a long moment, before he nodded slightly. 'Yes.'

Sisko stared irresolutely at Picard, still startled by the grand vision that the Admiral had laid before them. He was stunned at the confidence and drive that propelled this man ever onward. If he had been in Picard's position, he doubted that he would be able to command the same power and drive that the Grand Admiral did. 'Admiral,' he began slowly, again unsure of how to phrase his question, 'I do not feel confident about taking the command of the Fleet. I am of lesser rank to those around the table here today, I do not command anywhere near the support and respect that any of you do – I cannot bring myself to believe that I am the correct candidate to do what you ask.'

Picard stared at him for a moment, making him feel uncomfortable. 'Ben Sisko, it is exactly those qualities which I hope for you to bring to your command.'

'Sorry?'

'I am an autocrat,' said Picard frankly. 'A despot; a dictator, who rules – not commands – this Fleet. I am a soldier, moulded by fire and war. I am the ultimate authority in this Fleet for everyone who survived the carnage of the Aralla assault.' Picard paused, and reflected on what he had just said. He smiled in a self-effacing manner. 'We can't go on like that. What we need is a new hand at the tiller, a person who does not rule alone. That system nearly led us into disaster once. I don't want that to happen again.'

Picard made a slight gesture at the padd lying on the table. 'The plans I have outlined will split the hierarchy of the Fleet, and later an alliance, into separate parts, based on the best elements of each of the various governing systems represented in the Fleet.'

'Sensible,' agreed Dukat quietly. 'Will there be any –'

'Favouritism?' asked Picard, a slight grin on his face as he pre-empted the Cardassian. 'I don't intend for there to be, no.'

He glanced around the room again, and let his gaze rest on Sisko. 'Captain, in order to prepare you for your eventual command, I want to promote you. To Admiral.'

Sisko nodded slowly, not really as surprised as the others in the room. He knew that to take command over from Picard, he would need, at the very least, a rank equivalent to those around the table here. 'Thank you, Admiral,' he murmured, his mind preoccupied by Picard's earlier statements. He looked up at Picard. 'May I have a copy of the proposals, sir?'

Picard nodded. 'By all means.' He glanced at the others, and added, 'Could you please leave us, captain?'

Sisko nodded. 'Yes, sir.' Picking up the padd from the desk, he left the office.

Picard turned to the others, a faint smile on his face. 'I am sorry about all of the cloak and dagger playacting, gentlemen,' he said apologetically.

Martok nodded slightly. 'I understand your reasons for keeping the appointment quiet, Admiral. We have all agreed to the course of action – it is in your hands now. We only wish for the Fleet and the alliance to prosper.'

Picard nodded to himself. 'It will, believe me. Everything is in place.' He turned a gaze onto the door through which Sisko had left. 'And it will be led well.'

'You asked for our opinions,' said Dukat after a silent moment's contemplation. 'I for one agree with your choice.'

Picard nodded, looked at Martok. 'General?'

'I have the highest respect for him – I believe it is an excellent choice.'

'Good.' Picard turned to Kreal and looked expectantly at him. The Daimon shrugged.

'I am sure that whatever you decide is best.'

Picard scowled at him. 'Maybe, but I need your honest opinion.'

Kreal sighed. 'I am sure he is an able man and commander, but President of a brand-new interstellar alliance, one that would ally our disparate cultures and races for the first time? Is he experienced enough for that?'

Picard nodded calmly. 'Is there anyone in the Fleet prepared for that?' Convinced he had delivered a _fait accompli_, he turned away.

'Yes, Admiral,' said Kreal quietly. 'You.'

Picard faced him again. 'I have already explained why it cannot be me.'

'Yes, very pretty explanation,' replied Kreal acidly, 'but it does not clarify to me why you consider yourself this way.'

Picard sighed exasperatedly. 'We have been all over this before.'

'Yes,' said Kreal. 'But I am still not satisfied.'

Picard gave him a single glare, and Kreal looked into his eyes for the first time. He saw, behind the calm, the fire that burned within, one that had consumed Picard's whole being, and had moulded him into this driven warrior.

Yes, warrior. That was the best description for Picard now, Kreal realised, while at the same time he understood that the other leaders had all recognised and acknowledged this long before – one of the advantages of being a warrior yourself. And Picard also knew what he was, and hated himself for it.

'Nobody,' said Picard quietly, his voice bitter, 'should have this much power.' That said, he turned away.

Behind him, Kreal nodded silently. 'Your decision is wise, Admiral.'

Picard attached the gold bar to Sisko's collar, signifying his new rank of Admiral, and they shook hands as a quiet storm of applause rang through the small room in the main complex on Vegryo's surface. It was only a small gathering, Sisko's closest friends, and other new officers, including Lieutenant Truper and Commander Jadzia Dax.

Picard had waited until the treaty had been signed until he had announced it, and this ceremony was going out across the entire Fleet, and would announce officially what he knew the other Battlegroup commanders had already told their governments in private. As soon as the broadcast, if it worked well, the major governments would all come out in support of the plan. Once that was done, it would be nigh on impossible for the minor powers to turn away. 

It was a political stroke that had been planned mainly by himself and Dukat, but Picard knew that as an act of manoeuvring that required such co-operation, it could not work if the other leaders did not do as they were expected. It was, he hoped, the first real joint operation of the war.

Picard waited until the applause had died away, and then took a padd from a table beside him. He held it up so that all present could see it. 'Ladies and gentlemen, this long war has led to great sacrifices from us all, but we have come through these tribulations all the stronger. You all know that our battles since the beginning of the invasion have merely been the beginning. The Aralla have surely taken our homes from us, and built their own homes on top of the ruins of our civilisation. When we defeat the pursuing force of Aralla ships, we will be returning to the Alpha Quadrant, to fight more battles, to make more sacrifice, all in the name of our freedom, and our birthright. We did not abandon our birthright – we were forced from it, and I intend to reclaim it.

'Not only to reclaim it, however,' Picard continued, his voice becoming more passionate, 'but to make it into something that it was never before. I intend for the Alpha and Beta Quadrants to be united in peace, as they have never been before. This padd,' he said, brandishing the padd, 'contains a new alliance, agreed by myself and the leaders of the major powers in the Fleet. The Klingon Empire, the United Federation of Planets, the Romulan Star Empire, the Ferengi Alliance, and the Cardassian Union, all signed this treaty as of 0500 hours this morning.

'At the moment, this alliance is only a military pact, but it contains articles for a new system of government, comprehensively reviewed, drafted and agreed upon by the various signatories. No post in this new government has been filled yet except the most important – that of President. This person, it has been agreed, has the necessary qualities to forge the new alliance in the galaxy, and make it into a success beyond that which we have known so far.'

Picard paused, glancing across the crowd, who all wore a mixture of expressions – some surprise, others joy – but there was not a negative reaction to be seen. 'I now announce that the first President will be – Admiral Benjamin Sisko!'

For a single moment, there was utter silence. Around the hall, there were hurried, stunned whispers, but Picard had his eyes locked on Sisko's. Those dark eyes were filled with shock, horror – all sorts of emotions that came from the sudden announcement of surprising news. But, and Picard was pleased to note this, there was pride, and somewhat dazed pleasure.

The Grand Admiral grasped the hand of the President of the new alliance, and they turned to the rest of the hall, which broke into prolonged applause once again.

Picard was pleased to not be the focus of attention for once, as the crowd clustered around the new President. He stepped away, and turned to see Thames at the corner of the room. She stepped towards him. 'Admiral, we've received reports from the other governments. All of them came out within moments of the broadcast to support your announcement.'

Picard breathed a sigh of relief, letting Thames see the depth of his concern about their response. She smiled slightly. 'Well done, sir.'

'Me?' asked Picard, giving her a puzzled glance. 'What have I done?'

'Got them all to agree on something,' said Thames astutely. 'That, in itself, is a major achievement.'

Picard gazed at her for a long, astounded moment, before he started laughing out loud. Thames watched him concernedly as he gasped for breath and wiped tears from his eyes. 'Was it something I said?' she asked, when she thought he had regained his control.

Picard nodded, still wheezing slightly. 'It's just that I never looked at the situation from that angle before!' This sent him off onto another laughing fit once again.

Thames smiled along with him, although she failed to see what was so funny. But she had also noticed another thing – this was the first time that Picard had laughed out loud since Beverly Crusher had died.

And that, in itself, was another major achievement.

Shortly thereafter, once the gathering had broken up, Sisko faced Picard for the first time since the announcement, and asked the simple question that the Grand Admiral knew all along that he would ask. 'Why me?'

Picard smiled widely. 'I can't adapt to become a politician or a leader of men at my age anymore. Once maybe, but I am now a warrior, formed by and based squarely in this war and my hatred of the Aralla. Even if we win, it will be too late for me to change. It is for the younger generations to carry us forward. _You_ are to be the leader of this Alliance.'

Picard placed his hand on Sisko's shoulder, and smiled. 'Any matters relating to the treaty are your prerogatives from now on. I will offer advice, but I am only a battle veteran – not a politician for peacetime.' He shrugged and released his grip on Sisko's shoulder. The younger man gave him a piercing stare.

'And what about you?'

'I intend to keep my position as Grand Admiral as long as I can maintain it, and then simply let go. I do not want to be the sole focus that comes from this war. After my death, we would simply be looking back to my presence, and the others would always say that "Picard would never have done that." It would simply create chaos and division in the Alliance, and I know that must never happen. Younger people have to carry this Alliance forward, and I will not stand in your way.'

Picard grinned. 'I know that it seems as if I've decided your future for you, but I stopped thinking about individuals when Beverly died. All that matters now is the Alliance. It is the future. And that future needs you.'

Sisko nodded, although he did not accept Picard's point of view. 'I'll need a lot of help in these first new days.'

'It's up to you to choose your own support,' said Picard sagely. 'I can only offer advice from my own viewpoint.'

Sisko stared at Picard for a moment. 'When do I have to hand my recommendations –'

'No, Ben,' said Picard admonishingly. 'Your decisions are your own. I will not criticise, or disagree or agree. That would take away from your legitimacy.'

'What if I ask?'

Well,' said Picard, 'that's different. But it's your decision. You _are_ my superior.' So saying, he turned and left.

Sisko looked at the closed door for a moment. 'I didn't even dismiss you,' he muttered to himself.

In the next day, Picard received several messages from each of the minor governments that they wished to negotiate their way into the alliance. Each and every one, he passed on, with some exasperation to Sisko, and wrote a little note to the sender that they should be speaking to the new President, not the Grand Admiral of Starfleet.

He found now that he had more time for the command of the _Enterprise_ and the military affairs of the Fleet. The refits were complete at last, and Seven of Nine had been commended for handling the workload with such ease and skill.

It was at this time that he began planning the assault on the Aralla mother ship. Sisko would be commanding the main battle, while he, Data and Geordi infiltrated the mother ship. So much work had suddenly left him with so much time, so much that he often found himself at a loss for something to do.

All of a sudden, he felt as though that great weight of responsibility had been lifted away from him. His was the senior voice in the Fleet still, but he now had to defer his major decisions to Sisko. He even saw less of the Battlegroup commanders now.

Picard had not realised how much responsibility could weigh upon a single man, until he had lost that burden. He sat in his quarters in one of those quiet moments, and said to himself, smiling slightly, 'I should have done this a long time ago.'


	22. Transfer Of Command

__

Chapter XXII

'I'm impressed,' said Captain Chakotay. 'He's even given the Maquis a separate say in the alliance.'

'Think you can get along with the Cardassians?' asked Neelix mischieviously.

'I got along with you, didn't I?' replied Chakotay in the same tone. Neelix grinned briefly before bustling off on other business in the mess hall.

Chakotay agreed totally with the aims and ideals of the alliance, it had to be said, and as he looked across at the unified crews of the Maquis and Starfleet that co-existed aboard _Voyager _quite peacefully, he admitted to himself that it seemed possible that it would succeed. It would require a strong leader, but from what he knew, Ben Sisko was that leader. Backed by Picard himself, he had to be good.

Chakotay frowned suddenly, aware that during his sweeping glance, he had seen something that he hadn't taken in. He looked up from the padd again.

B'Elanna was sat on her own in the corner, staring at the stars. Chakotay watched her for a moment, but she did not move. Concentration now disturbed, he set down the padd.

Chakotay had become increasingly worried about B'Elanna. Although she carried out her duties with the same efficiency, a lot of the enjoyment that she displayed, and got out of the job, had dissipated in the weeks since Tom's death. The death of Janeway had also hit her hard – but Chakotay had seen her take vicious blows like that before and always come back well. Now, she was – well, Chakotay hated the term, but it was almost uncannily like pining away.

Why?

At the same moment that Chakotay decided to stand up and go to her side, B'Elanna seemed to rouse herself, and she stood, and left the mess hall. Chakotay looked after her, a worried expression on his dark face.

Data entered the silent hangar bay, and stood for a moment, looking up at the dark Aralla fighter before him. He observed its graceful lines, its feeling of barely suppressed speed, and its almost reptilian sinuosity. At the same time, Data felt the impending attack on the Aralla fleet grow ever closer, felt blackness creeping up on him, and saw, writ large upon the attack plane, his headstone.

He closed his eyes, turned away, trying to hide the tears of terror that crept unbidden from the ducts in his optical sensors. It was no state for an experienced Starfleet officer to be in, and certainly not an android.

He turned around, intending to leave, and found himself facing Reg Barclay. 'Mr. Barclay,' he said, and stopped, taking in the engineer's dishevelled appearance. 'Is there something wrong?'

'We're coming for you,' said the engineer with a malevolent grin, and, without warning drew a phaser from behind his back and fired.

Data reacted with all of the force that his android body could muster, and threw himself to one side. The beam grazed his side, and struck the fighter plane. Its shields sprung into life as the power was absorbed easily and an eerie green light illuminated the hangar bay, as Data jumped Barclay, and wrested the phaser from his grasp, forcing the other staggering back.

Data could feel his strength ebbing, and knew that the phaser had been set to kill. He tapped his commbadge, and gasped, 'Security to main shuttlebay –'

But Barclay was on him. Eschewing the phaser that Data held feebly, he grabbed the android and threw him bodily across the hangar bay deck, sending him crashing painfully into one of the shuttles. The phaser skittered across the deck, but Barclay seemed unconcerned. He advanced on Data, intent on finishing the weakened android.

Data lifted himself up onto his elbow, and stared at the figure before him. 'Why?' he blurted out. 'Why?'

'Because we are superior,' said Barclay, 'and because you must be punished.' No more came, and Barclay blocked out the light from Data's failing eyes.

The crashing report of a phaser rifle made Barclay turn, and he stared at Picard, Hedly and a pair of security guards. Picard was unarmed, and Hedly was the one who had fired the phaser blast. Picard stepped forward slightly. 'Mr. Barclay, you will surrender. There is no escape.'

'Not for you, maybe,' snarled Barclay at them, 'not from the Aralla!'

He snarled and leapt at Picard. At that moment, the guards all fired their rifles simultaneously. The blasts all struck his body, and he was slammed into the shield of the fighter. Suddenly, the shuttlebay was filled with the blaze and crackle of power being discharged, as green light filled the bay, coruscating around Barclay's tortured, convulsing form. He screamed wildly, as the shield burnt his body and threw it to the deck with a bone-crunching thud.

Picard immediately rushed to Data's side, and turned to Hedly. 'Get Geordi down here now.' As Hedly tapped her commbadge, Picard turned to Barclay's unmoving body. For a moment, he stared at the corpse, unable to believe that the young man had attacked Data, and nearly killed him. Barclay had considered Data to be a friend, and Picard counted himself lucky that Barclay had been such a long-serving member of his engineering staff, being one of the best young engineers in Starfleet.

He looked again at the body, noticing something that he had not taken in during the first cursory glance. In shock and horror, he slowly reached out and touched the small, almost unnoticeable appendage that protruded from the back of the engineer's neck. It had been hidden by his hair in life, but its arrival introduced a horrifying new threat to the Fleet's security. Picard stood slowly and turned to Hedly. 'Dispose of Mr. Barclay's body. Make sure that there are no recoverable remnants.'

'Sir?' queried Hedly.

'Just do it!' ordered Picard with a flash of momentary anger.

'Sir.' Hedly's reply was quiet and neutral, but Picard saw the hurt in her eyes before she turned away. At that moment, Geordi burst through the hangar doors and took in the scene in one quick, horrified glance.

'Data!' The engineer hurried across the bay, and knelt by Data's side, scanning him with his enhanced eyes. 'He's been shot by a phaser set to kill!'

'Can you do anything?' asked Picard.

'I need to get him to Engineering now,' said Geordi, not looking at Picard. He tapped his badge. 'Two to beam to Engineering!' He and the android's body dematerialised in a shimmer of light.

Picard faced Hedly once again, noting that the security guards were removing Barclay's body from the bay. 'Commander, I want systematic sweeps of all Fleet personnel for Aralla parasites. Co-ordinate with all Battlegroup commanders, but make sure that no-one slips through the net.'

'Understood,' said Hedly. She turned, and left the bay.

Picard turned and looked thoughtfully at the dark fighter. 'Let's just hope no others got into the Fleet,' he said to himself.

He turned, and left the hangar.

The sweeps proceeded with alacrity once the Battlegroup commanders were informed of the seriousness of the situation, and it was less than forty-eight hours before the vast majority of results came in. Fortunately, it appeared that Barclay's possession had been an isolated incident.

When Picard received the final report, it came as a slight surprise that Sisko had received the same report nearly an hour earlier. The new admiral walked through the door of Picard's ready room, brandishing the padd as if it were an offensive weapon. 'Good work,' he said.

Picard gave him a bemused look. 'Thank you.'

'How dangerous was the infestation?'

Picard blinked once. 'What rank did you hold about twelve years ago, Ben?'

Sisko gave him a puzzled look. 'I was a lieutenant aboard the _Saratoga_,' he said, voice mystified. 'Why?'

Picard looked for a moment at Sisko, before suddenly feeling very old. 'The crew of the _Enterprise_ and I destroyed an alien parasitic conspiracy in the highest levels of Starfleet that could have brought the Federation down. Very few details escaped the clampdown that Starfleet imposed on that information, apart from that Commander Riker and I saw. One of those details was that Commander Dexter Remmick, the host for the leader of this invasion, was transmitting a signal to somewhere in the Neutral Zone. That signal was cut off moments after Remmick's death, but we now believe, having seen evidence of those same parasites aboard the Aralla mother ship, that he was transmitting towards the dimensional rift.'

'The first stage of an Aralla attack?' Picard nodded, and Sisko looked slightly pale. 'We would have not stood even the slight chance we had when they did invade.'

'I know,' said Picard. 'I was stunned when I first heard the news, but I believe now that the Aralla have been planning an invasion of this universe for at least a century. Borg data I have received tells me that the Aralla entered orbit of a large planet about a century ago. This planet was the same as the one which contains the rift on our side.'

Sisko frowned. 'That sounds odd.'

Picard nodded. 'There is something that does not tie together in all of this, Ben, and I can't think what it is.'

'Why did the Aralla wait so long?'

'Unknown.' Picard looked frustrated. 'If only we could speak with them – there is so much history they can tell us!'

Sisko marvelled at the transformation that had come to Picard in the last few days. He seemed to have regained a measure of his old persona – that of the peaceful man he once was. Only that man would worry about the history of the Aralla fleet bearing down upon them now.

Picard emerged from his frustration with a faint grin. 'It's a pity, isn't it? That we must destroy them before they destroy us?'

Sisko could not find a reply. 'That is a question I never considered, Admiral,' he said eventually.

Picard nodded understandingly. 'Neither did I.'

Chakotay made it his business to inspect Engineering that day. As he expected, B'Elanna was there, doing her job, illuminated by the blue glow of the warp core, but without the fervour of her old work. Indeed, it was a listless manner she possessed – one which seriously concerned the new captain. He stepped closer. 'B'Elanna, are you all right?'

Torres started and faced him, surprise etched into her face. 'Chakotay!'

'Sorry, did I startle you?' asked Chakotay, although as he asked the question, he knew it was a stupid query. Torres forced a smile.

'Yes, of course,' she replied, and Chakotay knew she was hiding her feelings.

'Sure?'

'Yes, damn it!' Torres' outburst drew a few quick glances, but then everybody looked away again as the chief engineer glanced around angrily. She faced Chakotay again, flustered. 'Can we please have this conversation some other time?'

'No, but we can have it somewhere else,' offered Chakotay.

'No deal,' replied Torres curtly. She turned away. 'Now if you'll let me get on with my work?'

Chakotay placed a hand gently on her shoulder, felt the joint tense up. 'No, B'Elanna. Something's bothering you –'

'Yes, _you_!' retorted Torres, anger in her tone. She shrugged Chakotay's hand away, and tried to collect her thoughts.

For his part, Chakotay was not offended, but he now made a mistake. 'Now you see that you need to talk –'

Torres, whirling to face him again, cut her friend off in mid-sentence, genuine fury in her voice, mixed with pain. '_Leave me alone_! You couldn't begin to understand what the problem is! Now just leave me _alone!_' That last was a barely restrained shriek, and Torres stormed from Engineering, holding back tears.

Chakotay stood quietly for a moment, realising his folly, before turning his glare onto the Engineering crew. 'Back to your stations.' Then, turning, he left Engineering, heading for the bridge.

The USS _Thunderchild_ was an _Akira_-class starship that had faced some of the most horrific moments of the war and still lived to tell the tale. Much as it's namesake had against H.G. Wells' fictional Martian invasion, it would fight until the bitter end.

At the moment it was patrolling along one of Picard's assigned routes that took it very close to the Aralla rendezvous point. The _Thunderchild_ had been assigned the toughest patrol station as what could be considered a reward for Captain Latimer's heroic exploits during the war, especially during the Klingon defeat at Qo'nos. The _Thunderchild_ had faced off against a city destroyer in order to protect a fleeing number of Klingon civilian and warships. Despite taking heavy damage, it had survived this long.

Commander Westheimer, first officer and helmsman of the _Thunderchild_ had kept the ship on yellow alert for this portion of the patrol, although it was not believed that the Aralla were yet ready to attack. Latimer was off the bridge, and the night shift had just moved into operation.

'Sir,' said the science officer suddenly, turning to Westheimer, 'I'm picking up some unusual energy signals about eight light years off the port bow.'

'Energy signals? What type?'

'Inferometric energy pulses and resonant particle waves,' said the science officer. 'I can't seem to pinpoint them.'

Westheimer nodded, although he didn't understand what the science officer meant. 'What are these inferometric pulses?'

'Inferometric energy pulses are capable of lowering shields of a Federation starship like the _Enterprise_, say, with a single burst, but they have the additional capability of deflecting most energy based weapons back onto their target. Resonant particle waves collapse warp fields, but they can be deflected by shields.'

'Who do we know who has them?'

The science officer shrugged. 'As far as we know, the Aralla don't. No Alpha or Beta Quadrant races do, and we don't think that the Jem'Hadar do either.'

'What would the Jem'Hadar be doing out here?' scoffed Westheimer.

'What are we doing out here?' asked the science officer acidly. Westheimer smiled.

'Point taken. Anyone else?'

'No,' said the science officer, shaking his head. 'Do you want me to scan further?'

'Yes,' said Westheimer immediately. 'We may be at war, but we're still explorers. Run all scanners and see what you can find.'

'Aye, sir,' said the officer, turning back to his console. He brought the powerful sensors to bear on their target – and froze, horror etching his features. 'Sir!'

'What?' asked Westheimer, alarmed by the panic in the normally unflappable officer's tone.

'On screen, sir!'

Westheimer stared, as did the entire bridge crew, at the screen for more than a minute, pure horror creeping over them like a cold tide. After a moment, Westheimer said, 'Get the captain on the bridge. And hail the Fleet!'

'How are you feeling, Data?' said Picard gently.

The android blinked for a moment, surprised at Picard's voice. 'I feel fine, sir,' he said eventually. He swung his legs over the edge of the bio-bed, and sat upright.

Geordi, Data and Picard were in Engineering, where Geordi had been working on Data after his brush with death. Data sat for a moment, trying to work out what was missing. 'I appear to have lost my emotions,' he said.

'I had to remove your emotion chip, Data,' said Geordi guiltily. 'It was causing a severe strain on your positronic net.'

Picard stared for a moment at Data's impassive face. Despite having known the android with emotions for nearly five years, Picard still felt more comfortable with Data when he was emotionless. Familiarity with Data's unemotional behaviour patterns was the cause, he knew, and at the moment, Data's head slightly cocked to one side as he ran a quick self-diagnostic. He nodded to himself. 'I must congratulate you on your repair work, Geordi,' Data said after a moment.

Geordi grinned. 'Thank you, Data.'

'Do you remember what happened, Data?' asked Picard.

'I can remember running into Mr. Barclay, sir, and he attacked me with a phaser.'

'Did he say anything?'

Data paused. 'Yes. I asked him why he had attacked me, and he said that we would be punished. Then I blacked out.'

Picard nodded. 'I expected as much. I think that what happened was a parasite from the Aralla mother ship somehow got aboard your fighter, and attacked Mr. Barclay at sometime. Using his position, it was in a good position for sabotage, until it decided to attack you. I wonder why though?'

'I may have inadvertently disturbed it, sir,' suggested Data. 'Certainly there was no good reason for either of us being in the shuttlebay at that moment.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'That's probably the closest we're likely to get to an explanation. Pity.'

'Bridge to Admiral Picard.' Thames' voice rang through the section.

'Picard here.'

'Sir, we're receiving a signal from the USS _Thunderchild_ on advanced patrol. Captain Latimer wants to speak to you personally.'

'I'll be right there,' acknowledged Picard. He glanced at Data. 'Feel ready to return to duty, Mr. Data?'

'Yes, sir.' The two of them left Engineering.

As Data and Picard emerged onto the bridge, Thames stood from the centre seat and turned to Picard, her face worried. 'Admiral, we have Captain Latimer on subspace.'

'On screen,' said Picard, and he took his seat as Thames took her place at Ops and Latimer's thin face appeared on the main screen. Picard greeted him, and then noted the tense expression on Latimer's face.

'Admiral, we've picked up something on long-range sensors. I think you'd better see it.' Latimer nodded to someone off-screen, and his face vanished.

What Picard saw next jolted him so much that he veritably jumped from his seat to stare in outright shocked horror at the vision on the screen.

Darkness, black on black of space, blocking out the stars, filled the screen. Picard knew that what he saw was the Aralla fleet. After a moment, the magnification reduced, and the bridge crew was able to see the jagged outlines silhouetted against the stars. It had been so long since he had seen them that Picard had almost forgotten what a horror those ships were even without their awesome destructive power.

Slowly, Picard turned to Hedly. 'Transmit this image to all ships. Inform them the Aralla are coming.'

'Sir!' Thames' call brought Picard's attention to the screen, and an even stranger even emerged.

In the foreground of the image, the horrified watchers could see what appeared to be a huge dust cloud approaching the Aralla. Picard frowned. 'Is that cloud natural?'

'No, sir,' reported Thames. 'According to the _Thunderchild's_ telemetry, that cloud is made up of a vast number of ships.'

'Get Captain Chakotay for me,' ordered Picard.

Hedly did so, and a moment later said, 'On screen.' Chakotay's face appeared, his own expression horrified.

'I assume you're seeing the Aralla ships, Captain,' said Picard immediately.

'Yes, sir,' said Chakotay.

'The _Thunderchild_ reports that the cloud approaching the Aralla is made up of –'

'Many hundreds of ships, sir,' interrupted Chakotay. 'We have encountered this race before. We call them the Swarm.'

Picard nodded. 'Good name. What are they doing?'

'The Aralla must have entered their territory – they're extremely territorial. They use tachyon detection grids to patrol their borders. I don't think that there's any way for the Aralla to get through undetected.'

Picard nodded again. 'Will they attack?'

'Undoubtedly. They don't use energy based weapons like ourselves, Admiral. They use inferometric pulses to disable a ship's shields and also to deflect energy based weapons and resonant particle waves to disable warp fields. They could be a threat to the Aralla.'

'They've never faced anything like that, you're right,' said Picard. He looked back at Chakotay. 'Thank you, Captain.'

Chakotay's face vanished, to be replaced by the Swarm fleet approaching the Aralla. Thames glanced at him. 'We're reading hundreds of inferometric pulses, sir.'

'Their effect?' asked Picard hopefully.

Thames shook her head. 'None, sir.'

As Picard looked back at the screen, the cloud suddenly seemed to lunge at the mother ships, and small explosions began flashing up on the ships' forward shields. It was obvious that the flashes were the Swarm destroying themselves on the impenetrable shields of the Aralla vessels, possibly in the hope of draining them. The explosions were sporadic at first, but then the explosions grew in intensity and number, until the screen showed only a blaze of light as the Swarm ships destroyed themselves against the Aralla shields.

Picard and the Fleet could only watch as the Aralla proved themselves superior once again.

Eventually, the broken and defeated Swarm fleet broke off and began to retreat. The Aralla then launched the attack planes, hunting down the surviving Swarm ships quickly and efficiently.

The bridge crew watched this senseless slaughter silently as the attack planes destroyed the Swarm ships quickly. As the blasts hit, they blasted several ships apart due to the inferometric pulses which created a shield lattice between the ships, and the shots were being spread out and destroying other ships as well as the target. Occasionally, a blast would be deflected by a pulse, but the Aralla ships always shook off the return blast with ease. It seemed as if even the Aralla's own weapons could not defeat them.

The strength of the Swarm's collectivism was being used as their weakness. Picard swore to the same to the Aralla.

After a moment longer, Picard turned to Hedly. 'Get me Captain Latimer.'

Latimer's face appeared, and he looked sickened by the slaughter. 'Admiral?' he managed.

'Are those Aralla ships moving?'

'Not yet, sir, but we've been monitoring them for a while now, and we are reading almost a continuous stream of city destroyers rejoining their mother ships. I'd say that they were preparing for their assault.'

'Agreed,' said Picard. 'Return to the Fleet, captain. We'll be –'

'Sir!' The shout came from the _Thunderchild's_ bridge, and Latimer whirled. 'We have two city destroyers coming out of warp! They're launching attack fighters!'

Latimer turned away from the screen, and the image vanished.

Picard whirled on Hedly. 'What's happening?'

'We've lost contact with the _Thunderchild_, sir, and I can't raise them again.'

Thames turned to Picard. 'Sir, I can't scan the Thunderchild's position, but we have a pair of ships within range. The _Elmar_, and the _Appalacia_.'

Picard nodded his approval and Thames flashed him a quick reassuring smile as she turned back to her board. After a few nervous minutes, Thames spoke again. 'We have telemetry from the _Elmar_, sir.'

'On screen.' Picard watched for a long moment and then turned away, saddened.

Two city destroyers and their attack planes were systematically blasting the horrifically damaged _Thunderchild_ into wreckage. The once proud _Akira_-class starship, and her brave crew were dying slowly before the helpless _Enterprise _crew. 'Turn it off,' said Picard eventually.

Thames spoke again after a long moment, her voice low and angry. 'The _Appalacia_ and _Elmar_ are requesting permission to help the _Thunderchild_, sir.'

Picard shook his head. 'There's nothing any of us can do. Recall all ships from patrol stations.' Picard glanced at Hedly. 'Put me on Fleet-wide, commander.'

'Yes, sir.' After a moment, she nodded at Picard.

He took a breath, and then said, 'All ships, you have just seen the Aralla fleet that awaits us. Very soon, they will be coming for us, and we will face them. As of now, we are at Fleet-wide yellow alert and all ships will prepare for battle. Picard out.' He turned to Hedly again, and added, 'Get Admiral Sisko here immediately.'

He glanced at Data. 'How long do you estimate it will be before the Aralla attack.'

'On the basis of the evidence, anytime in the next five days, Admiral. We will have ample warning however.' Data referred to the tachyon detection grids that had been set up by the Borg around the former position of the Unicomplex, the place where the Aralla were expected to make their initial strike.

Picard nodded. 'Begin prepping the fighter for launch. I want to depart tomorrow. I shall be in my ready room.'

B'Elanna Torres stared silently at the computer in her room for a moment, before realising that the receive button was flashing.

She had entered her room almost in a trance, and had been sat for nearly an hour, simply staring into space blankly. Now, she roused herself, and pressed the button.

Chakotay's face appeared, and B'Elanna nearly turned the machine off in a flash of rage. Chakotay held a hand up. 'Sorry to call you, B'Elanna, but I thought you'd rather hear it from me.'

'Hear what?'

'You've been reassigned to the _Enterprise_.'

For a long moment, Torres was speechless with shock. Then, she slowly said, 'Why?'

'Admiral Sisko believes that you are best qualified to take over from the current Chief Engineer aboard the _Enterprise_.'

Torres was dumbstruck again. To even be thought to be capable of replacing the Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_, a legend in his own lifetime, was a massive honour. She shook her head, trying to clear it. 'I can't, Chakotay. I have too much work on _Voyager_, plus I don't know the staff on board the _Enterprise _and –'

'All of these factors have been taken into consideration, B'Elanna. It's only for the duration of the battle against the Aralla, and you'll be allowed to take a small engineering staff aboard the _Enterprise_ from _Voyager_ – people who are used to dealing with you.' Chakotay smiled ruefully. 'Admiral Sisko is determined for you to take over.'

B'Elanna nodded slowly. 'Very well. Just make sure that you don't replace me with anyone better.'

'There is no-one better,' said Chakotay, his voice serious.

For a long moment, the old friends looked at each other. Torres was first to speak. 'I just wanted to apologise for what I said, Chakotay. It was unnecessary, and I didn't mean it.'

Chakotay nodded, and Torres remembered that her friend rarely bore grudges. 'I shouldn't have disturbed you like I did. I was the one in the wrong.'

There was another moment, and they both started laughing together. 'Listen to us,' said B'Elanna, 'we sound like a pair of cadets who've been forced to apologise by the Admiral.'

'We're pathetic,' agreed Chakotay. They both eventually controlled themselves, before the silence returned. 'If there's anything –'

'I will,' promised B'Elanna, not wanting Chakotay to say it out loud.

The captain nodded, and he disappeared from the screen.

The next day came slowly and quietly, but the Fleet barely noticed. Shuttles moved from the ships to the surface of the planet, ferrying non-combatants to safety – or at least, places safer than the Fleet would soon be.

Sisko took one last glance around the _Defiant's_ bridge, before facing an expectant Kira Nerys. 'She's all yours, Major. Keep her safe until I get back.'

Nerys nodded confidently. 'We'll all be waiting, Admiral. Good luck.'

Sisko held out a hand awkwardly, but Kira reached out and gave him a quick hug. When she let go, Dax did the same but to Kira. Nerys gave her a puzzled look. 'Are you leaving too, Jadzia?'

Dax nodded. 'I've been reassigned to the _Enterprise_ as well, just for the battle. I'm going to be first officer.'

'Very fortunate,' remarked Kira. She smiled, and gave Dax another embrace.

Sisko stepped into the turbolift, followed by Jadzia and the doors closed on their faces.

Kira turned to the centre seat, feeling very lonely. She was the last of the _Defiant's_ crew from _DS9_ still aboard, and it had been a very long time since she had felt this separated from anyone. She sat down, settling herself in the chair, and looked out at the stars.

Torres had made a series of private goodbyes to her friends, and as she was leaving with a full team of back-up engineers, it would not an emotional farewell like that granted to Seven of Nine when she had left.

Despite that however, when walking into the transporter room with Lieutenant Joe Carey and Ensign Vorik, she was surprised to find Chakotay stood there, his arms folded.

He greeted the other engineers perfunctorily, but Torres got the impression it was her he had come to see. She sent the others on, and faced her friend. 'Goodbye, Chakotay.'

He nodded slightly, and said, 'B'Elanna, I may have apologised to you for what happened in Engineering, but I still would like an answer. I don't want you to go across to the _Enterprise_, and keep on working the way you have been doing.'

'How's that?' asked B'Elanna, but her tone was no longer belligerent.

'Like someone who's pining away,' said Chakotay frankly.

Torres stared at him for a moment. 'We were all hurt when Captain Janeway died, but everybody seems to have forgotten Tom. He died senselessly, a victim to the Borg. I don't feel like there's anything else to live for, and at the moment, I don't particularly want to live. If I do pine away, maybe that's the best thing.'

'You don't believe that –'

'_Don't_ tell me what I think!' shouted Torres. After a moment, she continued, calmer. 'I just want to go to the _Enterprise_, do my job, and come back. Maybe then, I might have regained my will to live. At the moment, that's all I want.'

Chakotay nodded slowly, but unhappily. 'If that is your wish.'

Torres looked him straight in the eye. 'It is.'

'Very well.' Chakotay stepped towards the console, while Torres stepped onto the transporter pad. He forced a smile at her. 'Good luck.'

'Energise,' was all Torres said. Chakotay moved the controls, and she vanished.

Sisko stepped onto the bridge of the _Enterprise_, and took a long slow look around at what was now his ship. It was at this moment that he realised what being in command of this ship was to those who served aboard it. The pinnacle of starship command. He had to admit it to himself that even the command of the _Defiant_ was not a patch on this ship.

He moved to the command chair, followed by Dax who sat down in the first officer's seat. Picard had already performed the handing over of command ceremony and Sisko was already in official command. He glanced at Thames. 'Commander, what is the status of the attack fighter?'

'Shuttlebay reports that it will be ready for launch in one hour, Admiral,' she replied.

'Good,' said Sisko to himself. For a moment, he and Dax stared at the vast screen before them. The _Defiant_ was equipped with a comparatively tiny viewer, and it was something that would take some getting used to.

'Transporter room reports that Engineer Torres has beamed aboard from the _Voyager_, sir,' said Hedly. 'She's brought a small engineering detail with her.'

Sisko nodded. 'Order them to report to Engineering as soon as they put their luggage in their quarters. We need to begin preparing for the Aralla assault.'

'How do you prepare for something like that?' asked Dax, her tone slightly facetious.

Sisko didn't look at her, but he muttered, 'Like hell.'

Data met Geordi in the armoury of the Enterprise, and they began taking weapons from the racks. They each took a pair of phaser type-twos, and put them into a lined case. Adding to that three phaser rifles, and a trio of utility belts and a full complement of photon grenades, they closed the case and Data picked it up.

In all of this time, they had not spoken a word to each other, but now Geordi said, 'Data, how have you been since I repaired you?'

Data paused, and glanced at his friend. 'I have been functioning adequately, Geordi.'

'Do you want me to replace your emotion chip before we leave?'

Data thought it through, and then shook his head. 'No. It would be better for me if I can remain unemotional through this battle.'

'You can turn it off –'

'No,' said Data firmly, in a tone that was the closest he could get, without emotions, to shouting.

Geordi nodded, not understanding, and he followed the android from the room.

Picard stepped out of his ready room, and faced Sisko. 'Time for me to go, Ben,' he said without preamble.

'Yes, sir,' replied Sisko. He held out his hand and Picard took it. 'Good luck.'

'Thank you.' Picard turned to enter the lift, and faced him again. 'Make sure you look after the _Enterprise_.'

Sisko smiled. 'Will do.'

Picard entered the lift. As the doors slid shut, and he said, 'Main shuttlebay,' he wondered where Thames was....

Data and Geordi were waiting outside the attack plane which loomed over the rest of the shuttles like a deadly mother hen when Picard entered. Immediately, he said, 'Get onboard and ready for launch.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Geordi and the two turned and clambered up and into the craft. Picard paused to take one last look around the shuttlebay of his command, and turned –

'Admiral?' Picard turned back, and found Thames staring at him from the entrance to the shuttlebay. She looked slightly out of breath. 'Thank god – I didn't want to find out that you'd left –'

She broke off, and Picard said, 'What can I do for you, commander?'

Thames suddenly found that she had lost her voice as she stared at Picard, who waited, puzzled, for an answer. 'I – I just wanted to say goodbye, sir,' she managed eventually.

Picard smiled slightly, as if he had realised something that he been eluding him. 'Thank you, commander. I appreciate it.'

'Just make sure you come back,' she blurted out, and then went red with embarrassment. Picard laughed out loud, and then louder when she hastily said, 'That was just advice, sir!'

'Thank you, commander,' he repeated. 'I intend to follow your advice.'

Thames smiled, relieved at his manner. There was a long moment in which they both seemed to have lost their voices, and then Thames, on impulse, leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. 'Goodbye,' was all she said, and she turned and left the bay.

Picard stared after her for a moment, and then turned and boarded the fighter.

Inside, Geordi and Data, who had seen the entire thing, glanced at him askance as Picard came aboard and sealed the door behind him. 'Ready to go, Admiral?' asked Geordi.

'Whenever you are, Mr La Forge,' replied Picard quietly. Data nodded, and activated the engines of the fighter.

Almost silently, the fighter lifted itself up from the hangar bay, and turned slowly to face the exit. With lissom grace, it turned, and left the shuttlebay.

From the bridge, Sisko, Thames, Dax, Hedly and Truper watched as the fighter flitted from the _Enterprise_, and flashed into warp speed. Although the fighters were not normally equipped with a warp drive, the Fleet technicians had equipped this one with a warp core.

Sisko breathed a sigh. The final battle had begun.


	23. The Pyre And The Ashes

__

Chapter XXIII

Onboard the attack plane, Picard sat in the left seat, Data in the central seat, and Geordi in the seat on the right. As Data kept the attack plane steady, the two humans could feel the g-forces on their bodies, something they were not accustomed to. Geordi looked towards Picard.

'I'm going to check the invasive program, Admiral. It had a few flaws in it when we used it on the Borg Queen.'

Picard stared at Geordi for a long moment, and felt a chill run through him at the innocent comment. 'You might have mentioned that,' he said eventually.

'Sorry, sir,' said Geordi, but he had a smile on his face. Picard looked away at the stars streaking past.

'Have a look into it now then, Geordi, by all means. We have a long voyage ahead of us and I don't want the Aralla to have a chance.' La Forge nodded, and picked up the tricorder he had brought. Data sat quietly, piloting the ship towards the mother ship. Picard moved around, attempting to get comfortable in the seat that was built for an Aralla body. 'ETA at the Aralla fleet?'

'Twenty hours, Admiral.'

'That's cutting it a bit close,' said Picard, mildly concerned.

'We could come out of warp nearer to the Aralla, but that would risk their detecting the warp core before we can shut it down and eject it.'

Picard shook his head. The fighter would come out of warp out of Aralla sensor range, shut down the warp core and eject it, thus avoiding Aralla suspicion at a fighter equipped with a separate power source. 'Too risky. Twenty hours it is.'

Data nodded and returned his attention to the screen. Picard looked back Data for a moment, and then felt a familiar tickle in his brain –

__

'We have been ordered to assume positions in a plan not submitted to the Collective. Orders?'

Picard sent his approval, along with a message that the Collective were to consider Ben Sisko's orders as if they were his own without referring to him first.

__

'Understood.'

That was all communicating with the Borg was now. Picard was pleased that he had managed to put his power out of his mind for a while. It showed that he was accepting his fate at last.

Well, one fate at least. There were still other things – and other people – to consider. One of those was a certain dark-haired Lieutenant-Commander on the _Enterprise_. At the very least, he would stay alive for her – and make sure the Aralla did not threaten her or them.

For a lengthy journey like that, the time went by surprisingly quickly. Before Picard knew it, he was ejecting the warp core of the ship, preparing for the final leg of the journey.

Geordi glanced at Picard. 'I've been through the program six or seven times, Admiral. It's ready as it'll ever be.'

'Good.' Picard stared out at the stars, aware of the Aralla ships just out of his sight. He took a breath, and settled himself into combat mode. 'Data, have you picked the Aralla fleet up on sensors?'

'Yes, sir. They are approximately fine hundred million miles directly ahead. They appear to be moving into an advancing formation. I would estimate that they are about to begin their attack.'

'Agreed,' said Picard. 'Very well, Mr. Data. Take us in.'

The fighter lunged towards the distant Aralla fleet.

Ten minutes passed before Geordi made a short stabbing gesture out of the window. 'There they are!'

Viewing them from the _Enterprise's_ viewscreen, at distances further away than this, the Aralla ships had been intimidatingly large. From the tiny shell of an attack plane, they filled the view before the fighter, terrifying in their enormity. The huge fangs of the mother ships hung in space like the incisors of some vast prehistoric animal, and along the decorated surface were the shell-like hulls of the city destroyers, resting, poised for release, to destroy and conquer in the name of the Aralla. Slowly, the attack plane moved towards them.

Data was watching the scanners as they approached, making sure that they were passive scans of the massive bulks. He glanced aft. 'It appears that all city destroyers are present, Admiral.'

'I wonder why they went at the preparation in such a roundabout way,' said Picard.

'We may never know, sir,' replied Geordi. 'Maybe it was what the Aralla call psychological warfare.'

Amazingly, given the tension, Picard managed a smile. 'Geordi, those ships on their own _are_ psychological warfare personified.'

'Good point,' said the engineer, but he did not smile. Instead, he said, 'They're going to launch their assault immediately then?' he asked, knowing the answer.

'Yes, Geordi,' replied Data. 'I can see several attack planes heading back to the mother ships. I suspect that we have arrived just in time.'

'Good,' said Picard. 'In all the commotion, they may ignore a tiny fighter like ours. Any indication that they have accessed the computer?'

'No, sir. You may be right.'

'Let's hope so,' murmured Picard, as the attack plane drew closer to the mother ship.

Suddenly, the ship shook. Data released control of the ship to the mother ships' tractor beam and reported, 'We have been taken in tow by the mother ship. We will dock in five minutes.' 

As the attack plane flew over the huge hull, the three officers could see the decorations and embellishments below them. Data spotted something and said, 'It has just come to my attention that the decorations on the Aralla ships are in a spiral formation, towards the central firing point on the _Cyclops_-class ships, and just to a natural ending on the _Colossus_-class.'

Picard looked at him. 'Why didn't you notice that before?'

Data shrugged. 'I was not looking for it.'

Abruptly, the attack plane flipped over and was swallowed by darkness. 'We have entered the mother ship,' said Data unnecessarily, but Picard and Geordi's eyes were fixed on the sight emerging before them.

Like Odo, Worf, and Data himself before, they were stunned by the sheer size of the hangar bay. The familiar blue mist rose up from the decks, and the vast pillars loomed at them from out of that cloud of vapour.

Unlike the previous times, they were not given the journey that they were usually treated to. They found a docking berth empty, and were quickly manoeuvred into it. A pair of clamps secured the fighter, and a long boarding tube attached itself to the side of the fighter. The door slid open, and for a moment, the away team believed that they had been caught.

No-one stood there. Picard let out a breath. 'Get yourselves equipped quickly,' he ordered.

Data and Geordi strapped the utility belts on, and Data threw one to Picard, who did the same with his. To those, they attached their phasers, although when Data tried to pass one to Picard, he shook his head, and patted the phaser he had carried with him – the one which had killed Beverly Crusher. Picking up a phaser rifle, he placed five photon grenades into the belt. Setting the rifle to kill he glanced at the others, both equipped similarly, although Geordi had a tricorder in place of one grenade, and Data carried Worf's bat'leth. Picard frowned at him. 'Why the bat'leth?'

'For Worf, sir,' replied Data, and that was that.

Picard looked out at the boarding tube, and said, 'I'll take point. Data, you cover the rear.'

'Aye, sir.'

And, then, with a deep breath, the away team stepped out onto the Aralla mother ship.

For the next twenty minutes, they proceeded down a long, twisting corridor, with Geordi continuously scanning the way ahead, searching both for Aralla, and also for the concentration of computer networks that signalled a command centre. There, they would upload the virus.

Suddenly, a huge tremor swept through the ship, and the away team was forced to brace themselves for support. After a moment, it passed away, and Picard stared at Geordi. 'What was that?'

'The Aralla mother ship has just gone to warp, sir. I think they're about to go to transwarp –' He was cut off by another tremor, more gentle, but still enough to make Picard stumble. 'I think that proves my point,' added Geordi once the tremor had passed.

'I just hope the Fleet is ready.'

The Fleet was ready. Sisko had ordered the entire Fleet to move to attack readiness shortly after Picard had left. The entire Borg fleet rested in between the planet and the Aralla entry point. About two light-years away, the rest of Fleet, in its various Battlegroups and sub-orders of that, was waiting.

The plan was simple. The Aralla would come out of warp, engage the Borg, and the rest of the Fleet would warp in behind, and trap them in what Sisko called a "hammer and anvil tactic." Theoretically, the attack would result in the enemy being trapped and pounded by the combined attack on two fronts – but tactics and theory had all too often gone out of the window against the Aralla. Sisko knew that if Picard could not lower the shields of the Aralla ships, then he would be very lucky if he could extricate any ships from the battle. And almost certainly, any hope of victory would be irrevocably crushed.

This was, in more than one way, the last battle.

Now, they waited for the Aralla.

'Sir!' Hedly's shout carried across the bridge. 'The tachyon detection grid has been broken! The Aralla are attacking!'

Sisko nodded, and he felt his heartrate increase. 'All ships, this is the _Enterprise_. Red alert. Battle stations. Activate Borg modifications.' 

The away team had emerged onto the familiar walkway alongside the black abyss. Data now theorised that this was a major intersecting corridor, for he had traversed it every time he come aboard. Picard agreed, but he largely concentrated on what was immediately before them.

Geordi suddenly gasped. 'Sir, I'm picking up a huge power drain just ahead.'

Picard stared for a moment, and made out a door inset in the wall. 'I think I can see the entrance.'

He led the way slowly, and stood before the door. It slid open silently, and Picard leapt in, dropped to one knee, and levelled the rifle. Checking it was clear, he signalled to the others. As they entered, Geordi made his way to a form of control console. He examined it, and gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. 'No, this isn't connected to the main computer.'

Picard frowned. 'Then what's the immense power drain.'

'Perhaps this, sir,' said Data, and Picard turned to see that the android was staring through a small glass partition. Picard stepped closer – and gasped in awe and horror.

Before them, as far as the eye can see, there stretched tier upon tier of unmoving Aralla bodies. All seemingly identical, they formed what was a chilling tableaux of unmoving horror. But even worse, they seemed as though they were imitating the Borg in their motionless statue-like sleep.

Picard turned away, unable to look any longer. 'We've spent enough time here.' Without answer, he led the way from the room.

The huge Borg fleet waited silently for the Aralla. What passed through the minds of the drones that waited in readiness could not be fathomed, but it could not be denied that even the Collective, as far as it was capable, was feeling very tense itself.

The Aralla, it understood, could not be defeated, but here was the Collective, spurred on by the fire that controlled it's leader, trying desperately to defeat them – something that could not be done, or so it had believed.

It was confusing to the logical systems of the Collective, but it had a get-out clause that other logical systems may not have had. It _had_ to follow its orders, and that was a directive burned into the very being of the Borg. Its orders were to do the impossible. It would be done.

'I'm picking something up, sir,' said Geordi, as the away team continued along the chasm-edged walkway.

'What is it?'

'Looks like heavy computer activity,' said the engineer. 'I think it's what we're looking for.'

'Can you see an entrance, Admiral?' asked Data.

'The walkway appears to wind away into a covered corridor,' said Picard. 'I suspect what we're looking for lies through there.'

'Agreed,' said Geordi.

'Let's be careful,' added Picard. They advanced forward again.

The commander of the Aralla fleet had observed the actions of the Fleet from a distance. The presence of one of the children aboard their flagship had presented an unrivalled opportunity for espionage. It was a pity that the child had been discovered.

Nonetheless, the attack was now underway. The humans and their allies would not stand a chance. The commander had already made his decision as to the future of the Aralla. Their time in space had weakened them, he believed, and it was clear that they needed a new planetary base of operations. It would only be poetic justice for the new home of the Aralla to be the old home of humanity.

Scanners were coming into range of the Borg Unicomplex. The Aralla knew they had already been detected by a tachyon detection grid. This merely meant that the enemy had more time in which to cower in fear at the approach of their death.

Picard levelled his rifle again, and eyeballed the corridor that the three of them traversed.

Large columns, glowing with internally suppressed power, stretched from the deck to the ceiling, narrowing in the centre, and widening again to spread into the ceiling. These lined the bulkheads of the corridor at regular intervals.

After ascertaining that the corridor did not contain any Aralla, Picard signalled the others forward. The away team spread out, advancing cautiously, weapons raised, eyes casting about.

After a few moments, Geordi brought his tricorder up and stopped. He faced one of the walls. 'This is it?'

'This is what?' asked Picard.

'The computer activity is definitely emanating from within that room, sir,' said Geordi. 'I can't detect any entrances.'

Picard could agree with that, as the corridor went straight ahead for what must have been miles. 'How do we get through?'

'Photon grenades,' said Data. Geordi nodded his agreement.

'I think it's the only way, sir.'

'And if the Aralla spot us?'

'I don't think we have a choice, Admiral,' said Data, unstrapping a pair of grenades and setting them on the deck.

Reluctantly, Picard backed away from Data's work, and took cover behind one of the wide pillars. Geordi did the same further down the corridor.

Data twisted a dial on both of the canisters and dashed down the corridor, barely getting into cover before they exploded with a massive roar that blew out the entire bulkhead and spat fire into the corridor. After a moment, waiting for the dust and smoke to settle, Picard and Data took a step forward and gazed in through the hole.

Before them rose a vast bank of screens, monitors and computers, all linked by thousands of tiny connecting fibres to one single vast twisted black pillar, much like those in the docking bay. As the away team stepped through the hole, Data looked up, but could not see where the pillar terminated, dwindling away into the inky darkness above. The giant room itself stretched away in all directions, darkness filling every direction.

'I think that this is definitely what we're looking for,' said Geordi, taking out his tricorder again. Scanning, he said, 'I need to find some form of access terminal.'

Picard took point again as the away team penetrated deeper into the Aralla mother ship. At that moment, a shudder passed through the enormous ship again, and the away team held on as the tremor faded. Picard looked at Geordi and Data, needing no information to know that the Aralla had left transwarp. 'We'd better hurry.'

The Aralla commander stared at the darkness of space for a moment. He was not surprised by their enemy's failure to materialise, and had prepared for the eventuality. He waited patiently for the results of the scans, and was told that their scanners had picked up a massive transwarp trail leading to a small planet nearby.

The Aralla launched themselves into warp again, not far from their final reckoning.

'Gotcha!' Geordi's exultant cry summoned Picard and Data to his side.

'What is it?' asked Picard.

'This is a direct access panel to the main computer network, Admiral. I'm going to upload the virus from here and activate.'

'How long?'

'Twenty minutes,' said Geordi, and without waiting for comment, he placed the tricorder beside one of the computer consoles that he had illuminated with a torch. Looking at the tricorder, it scanned his optical wavelength on his implants, and accessed the invasive program. The tricorder began finding a way into the main computer.

Hedly's head jerked upward as she stared at Sisko. 'Admiral, I have detected the Aralla fleet bearing 457 mark 547. They are proceeding at warp five towards Vegryo VII. ETA is five minutes.'

'Any reading on their shields?' Sisko's question was directed at Thames, and his tone was hopeful.

'I cannot be certain at this range, sir,' said Thames.

Sisko nodded, face calm, but his stomach churning. 'Signal the Fleet. Warp five, matching the Aralla course.'

'All Battlegroups acknowledge,' said Hedly.

'Engage.'

Geordi stared at the console, watching as the tricorder wormed its way into the Aralla computer network. The first symptom of the virus' infiltration into the system was that localised computers lost control of their functions. Lock-out commands and passwords that restricted access would fail, and this is exactly what happened now. 'I have control of this console, Admiral,' said the engineer, not taking his eyes from the tricorder.

'Can you give me a status check on the Aralla position?'

'I can do better than that,' said Geordi, pleased with himself. 'This particular console has command of a large bank of exterior sensors. I can call up an image of immediately outside the mother ship.'

'Do so,' ordered Picard. Geordi pressed a few controls, and a monitor slightly above and to the left of the away team flickered into life.

Strange alien symbols shimmered across the screen occasionally, but that was not what held the away team's attention.

What was before them was the vast Borg fleet, closing on the Aralla position.

And at that moment, another shimmer of motion rippled through the Aralla mother ship, as the entire Aralla fleet dropped out of warp.

The second the Aralla fleet emerged from warp speed, the Borg fleet leapt as one at the mother ships. The Cubes swept forward, firing their weapons as they came, the blasts dissipating against the shields, and they curved past the Aralla ships, still firing, as the second wave crashed into the Aralla.

Within moments, the Aralla returned fire. Balls of blue fire mixed with the green torpedoes and purple beams of cutting energy responded to the shimmering green energy of Borg weapons. Within moments, five Borg Cubes were blown apart, and another three Spheres lay burning in space.

'The Borg have engaged the Aralla,' reported Hedly. 'Our ETA is one minute.'

'Sisko to Engineering.'

'Torres here.'

'Can you give us anymore speed, engineer?'

'I'll try, sir.'

The mother ship shook again, but very slightly. 'We are coming under fire, Admiral,' said Data.

Picard watched as another Borg ship was destroyed in a ball of fire. Every time that happened, it felt as though a tiny part of his soul was being torn away from him. He could hear, through his connection, the calm unhurried orders of the Collective, ordering more ships to crowd the Aralla.

Hordes of attack planes spilled from the Aralla hangar bays, and opened fire on the Borg fleet. As they did so, smaller scoutships from the Borg fleet rushed to engage them. A moment later, the two new fleets joined in battle, lances of blue and green fire being sprayed randomly across space.

At that moment, the Alliance Fleet broke out of warp astern of the Aralla.

Sisko grinned wolfishly. 'All ships, open fire at will. Order all fighters to engage the attack planes, and keep them off the cruisers for as long as possible.'

Sweeping forward, the Fleet opened fire on the Aralla. Phaser beams, disruptor blasts and photon torpedoes all slammed into the green shields defending the Aralla. In return, the Aralla opened up on the Fleet, savagely bombarding them with blue energy. Unlike the Borg, their weapons could not penetrate the Fleet's shields as easily. Thus, the Fleet could match the Aralla blow for blow.

That is, until another new reading caught Thames' eye. She turned to face Sisko, face worried. 'Sir, they're launching the city destroyers!'

'How many?' asked Sisko, determined to keep calm.

'All of them.'

Detaching themselves from the bulk of the mother ships, the city destroyers rotated away from their dark mass, and split up, most heading to engage the Fleet, and the rest moving to intercept the Borg. Before too long, the Fleet was forced to divert its fire from the mother ships onto the advancing city destroyers, which arranged themselves as a defensive wall between the Fleet and the planet. This wall opened fire on the Fleet as their attendant attack fighters rushed to engage the defenders.

The Battlegroups swarmed forward to attack the city destroyers, the faster ships spraying their phaser fire across the shields, protecting the larger cruisers, following up behind, attempting to save their firepower for the shields to come down.

The _Defiant_ swooped under the belly of the most forward of the city destroyers, firing at random. It was immediately pursued by a large number of attack planes.

Kira smiled, her strategy working perfectly. She had direct control of the helm, and immediately swung the incredibly manoeuvrable starship around, bearing down on her erstwhile pursuers. The phasers blasted out, and most of the fighters were caught in the first volley. The attack planes tried to get out of the way, but they exploded under the concentrated phaser barrage. The _Defiant_ pulled away from the city destroyer, dodging the return fire.

Astern, a squadron of _Keldon_-class warships, escorted by a wing of birds-of-prey, opened up on a city destroyer. The return barrage broke through the shields, devastating two ships and damaging another badly. The squadron broke up, fleeing from their enemy.

In the centre of the formation, Admiral Jaled's Warbird took a savage beating from one of the city destroyers. As it's escort ships attempted to distract the Aralla, the Warbird tried to evade, but to no avail. Another salvo of fire disabled the Warbird's engines, and another severed the bridge section from the main hull. A fireball erupted, which consumed the Warbird as its escort continued the attack.

The _Challenger, _alone on the flank, opened fire, hitting a mother ship with a severe barrage. The answering onslaught broke through its shields, destroyed a warp nacelle, and caused a warp core breach. The _Challenger_ blazed into light and the ball of fire illuminated the blackness of space for a short while until the light from the weapons that discharged around it drowned out its glittering brightness.

Picard watched the destruction of the _Galaxy-_class _Challenger_ in horror, as Data bowed his head. But all was forgotten a moment later, when Geordi suddenly yelled in delight. 'It's in!' They turned to see all of the monitors suddenly fill with a geometric pattern, which was the modified Borg invasive program.

Picard sighed with relief, feeling long months of preparation coming into fruition. 'If the Aralla isolate the problem, can they deactivate the program?'

'Only if they track it to the exact console,' replied Geordi after a moment's thought.

Picard nodded calmly. He levelled his phaser rifle, and said, 'Stand back.'

The others jumped out of the way as Picard sent a sustained beam of energy into the computer console, and it exploded in a blaze of sparks. Geordi stared for a moment at the wreckage, and then glanced up at the screens. The geometric pattern remained on the screen, indicating that it had infiltrated other computers. Soon, very soon, the program would spread insidiously into the massive pillar, which Geordi privately theorised was the main Aralla computer net. And from there, it would knock out the shields, weapons and engines, leaving the Aralla dead in space.

Picard motioned to the others. 'Come on, our job's done. Let's get out of here.'

A Borg Cube swooped low over the hull of a mother ship, and opened fire. The blasts glanced off the shields easily, and in return, the mother ship tracked the Borg Cube. As it pulled away from the mother ship, a barrage of fire joined the Cube to the mother ship briefly. The Borg ship shattered into a fireball, which swept on away from the battle.

The _Enterprise_ pulled past the fireball that barely missed it and unleashed a storm of fire into the shields of the mother ship. Explosions larger than the _Enterprise_ herself flashed into being along the shields, illuminating the green field of energy.

But, as the blasts faded, the crew of the _Enterprise_ could see that there was a wound in the hull of the mother ship, glowing orange with the fire that burned into space.

Sisko slowly stood, staring for a moment, all thoughts of the battle having disappeared for a moment as he gazed at the Aralla ship. 'Commander Hedly, fire.'

The _Enterprise_ fired again, and this time the result was unequivocal. A massive torrent of fire boiled from the hull of the mother ship. Hull plates were blown apart, allowing the weapons of the starship to find their way inside and tear the interior apart.

For a moment, silence reigned on the _Enterprise_ bridge, and then spontaneous cheering broke out as the crew celebrated the success of the away team's mission. Sisko turned to Hedly, who bore a vicious grin. 'Tell all ships to fire at will. The Aralla are vulnerable at last.'

It seemed that the message to fire had been unnecessary. All across the Fleet, crews cheered as they saw the mighty Aralla fall victim to the invasive program. Within moments, the Fleet had closed to point-blank range with the city destroyers, blowing holes in the shield which now tried to defend the mother ships. Attack planes swarming around the Fleet were being caught in the devastating attack and blown to shreds. If not, the superior firepower of the Alliance fighters gave them a decisive advantage.

On the other side of the battle, the Borg began firing in earnest. Their weapons pounded the huge ships, and blasted the hulls apart, destroying attack planes and causing tremendous damage. It appeared as though they had only been toying with Aralla. In moments, the first city destroyer fell, as forty starships ganged up on the vast cruiser, destroying it in a massive conflagration, which burned brightly in the midst of the battle. By the light of the burning city destroyer, the Fleet pounded the Aralla fleet.

The Aralla commander stared, dumbfounded, at the screen which showed him the disastrous turn the battle had taken. He turned his anger onto his subordinates, but they could not help him. In a fit of anger and hatred, he ordered all-out attack by the Aralla. They still outgunned the Alliance and the Borg.

At that moment, the geometric pattern appeared on the screens throughout the small control room. The Aralla all stared, stunned, as it made it's way through the system and drained power.

The _Enterprise_ led Battlegroups _Enterprise_ and Alpha into the midst of the firefight. Phaser beams etched their way along the dark hulls, as quantum torpedoes rent the interior open to space, spilling oxygen and fire out into the void.

Sisko flinched slightly as a _Defiant_-class ship, the USS _Valiant_, exploded directly ahead. The Enterprise took revenge on a city destroyer, passing it to starboard and firing a devastating phaser salvo into it. As it moved astern, the city destroyer concentrated a blast on the flagship.

The explosion threw Sisko and Dax from their seats, and Truper against the turbolift. Amazingly, Thames and Hedly held on, but Hedly shouted, 'We've lost shields, Admiral!'

'Divert –' The crew was thrown to their feet, cutting Sisko off as another explosion rocked the starship.

A beam of cutting energy passed directly through the port warp nacelle, shattering the clear material shielding it, and exploding the Bussard Collector on the forward end. As the nacelle went dark, the beam continued on its way, striking the stardrive section hard.

A huge explosion blasted two engineers from the upper levels of the Engineering deck, killing them, and gas began to billow from the warp core. Joseph Carey, standing in for Torres who was on the bridge, stared for a horrified moment as the gas billowed towards him. 'Coolant leak!' he shouted above the noise. He made the wrong decision. 'Try and plug that breach -!'

Another explosion shut down the lights in the section, and the huge doors that protected the crew from coolant leaks came crashing down from the ceiling, their computer control severed. As the light from the warp core eerily illuminated the room, Carey and his engineers hammered on the doors, screaming for help. At that moment, Ensign Vorik glanced back and said, 'Look!'

The trapped engineers saw their worst nightmare. Carey turned to the others. 'Get to the upper levels!'

'Carey to bridge!'

'Sisko here,' gasped the admiral in pain, having just struggled to his seat. He thought his wrist was broken. Dax had taken over the helm console from the injured Truper.

'Sir, we have a serious problem. The magnetic interlocks have failed, and we'll have a warp core breach in six minutes. There's nothing I can do.'

Sisko stared for a moment at Dax, horror etched into his face. Behind him, at the bridge engineering console, Torres said, 'Can you get your people out, Joe?'

'No, Commander,' replied Carey, his voice deathly calm. 'We're trapped on the upper levels. The plasma tanks have had a small leak punched in them. The plasma coolant's flooded the lower compartment. We can't get out.'

Sisko felt nausea flood run through him, while Torres looked physically sick. Plasma coolant dissolved organic matter on contact. Carey and the trapped engineers were condemned to a horrifyingly bad death. 'You have my thanks, Mr. Carey,' said Sisko. He did not cut the commlink, allowing Carey that privilege.

'Thank you, sir,' said Carey. 'Get home B'Elanna,' he added. 'Carey out.'

Immediately, Sisko leapt to his feet. 'All hands, this is Admiral Sisko. Abandon ship.'

Hedly headed to the lift, pausing to take Torres in tow, whose eyes were vacant, stunned at the loss of her engineering crew. She followed Hedly as if she was a zombie. At the same time, Thames helped Truper to his feet and left in the port aft turbolift along with Hedly and Torres. The other bridge crew left in the starboard aft turbolift.

Sisko stared in black hatred at the Aralla mother ship looming over the _Enterprise_, defending itself desperately. Every so often, a salvo of photon torpedoes or a volley of phaser fire would crash into its vast hull, blowing out balls of fire the lit up the ship for miles.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Sisko said, 'Computer, time check please.'

'Four minutes to warp core breach.'

Sisko looked at Dax, who still sat at her console. 'Let's go.'

Dax stood and turned, resting her hand on the console.

The Aralla mother ship unleashed another salvo into the _Enterprise_.

The console exploded behind Dax. She was struck by shrapnel and electrocuted at the same time. She screamed and collapsed to the deck. Sisko dived to her side.

'Dax! Dax! Old Man, come on!' Her body lolled in his arms, bleeding from a dozen cuts, and her uniform badly burned. Tears of fury filled Sisko's eyes. Her face was black from burns, and her hands were the same.

Picking her up, fury and bitter rage sweeping through his mind, he carried her to the turbolift.

Torres allowed herself to taken most of the way to the escape pods before her mind came back to her. She pulled herself free from Hedly's grip and began running down the corridor, ignoring the shouts from the crew for her to come back. Turning the corner, she fled blindly towards the Engineering section.

At that moment, the Aralla blasted their fatal salvo into the starship. The ship rocked hard and threw B'Elanna to the deck, hitting her head. As consciousness faded, she thought she heard feet approaching...

Seven of Nine stopped dead when she saw Torres' body recumbent upon the deck. She had just left Engineering having tried her hardest to free Carey, Vorik and the trapped engineers. Now, she found the Chief Engineer knocked out on the deck. Seven did not even worry. She picked up Torres' body and carried her to the escape pod.

'One minute to warp core breach.' Did it know of its own impending doom? Or was it just Sisko's imagination that it was saying the words rather sadly? He cared not.

The doors of the turbolift slid open and admitted Sisko to the deck. Bashir saw him and turned. 'Hurry, Admiral!'

At that moment, the Aralla, who seemed on wiping the _Enterprise,_ their scourge throughout the war, from existence, fired again. This beam severed the port nacelle from the strut connecting it to the starship, sending it careering into space. As it did so, the beam ripped apart a large section of the saucer section.

The explosion ripped from the hull, sending a ball of flame billowing along the corridor towards Sisko. Bashir grabbed him, and yanked him into the escape pod. As Sisko was pulled, he lost his grip on Dax. Her body fell to the deck as Sisko watched the pod door close before his eyes and the pod launched.

Sisko whirled on Bashir, stunned fury written in his face. 'I dropped her body!'

Bashir's eyes registered the horror of what Sisko said. 'Jadzia...' he whispered, closing his eyes with the pain that tore into his very soul.

Sisko turned to sit at the porthole of the pod, watching the _Enterprise_ recede in the distance. A white flash rippled along the starboard nacelle and a memory returned, fleeing the USS _Saratoga_; his security officer, Zar, pulling him from the body of his wife, Jennifer, trapped under girders; the pod launching; the _Saratoga _vanishing into the distance. The _Saratoga_ -

The entire destruction of the _Enterprise_ echoed the death of the _Saratoga_. As the escape pod soared away from the _Enterprise_, Sisko pushed his face against the porthole, seeing not the dying starship, but, in his mind's eye, Dax's body lying against the bulkhead.

'No.' His whisper was to the burning starship that listed in space before him. As the _Enterprise's_ final second approached, Sisko's minds eye watched the fire creep through the decks.

'No!' A bitter shout of loss. As the white-blue fire consumed the stardrive section, Sisko saw Dax's body burn.

'**_NO_**!' As the _Enterprise _vanished in a blue-white cloud of flame, the warp-core breaching and sustaining itself to create the flagship's fiery grave, Sisko knew he had failed Curzon and Jadzia Dax. He screamed to the night.

Seven of Nine had also watched the silent ball of fire that had blown the _Enterprise_ to atoms. But her concern was on the other occupant of the escape pod.

Torres had still not awoken from her sleep, and Seven could see a livid bruise forming on her forehead where she had hit it. Resisting a sudden impulse to linger, Seven brushed Torres' hair aside so that she could see the bruise better.

After a moment, she was satisfied that her companion was safe from danger, and she turned her attention to the battle outside.

The _Enterprise's_ fiery death had not left any debris that could endanger the fleet of escape pods that fled from it, and the only danger was being shot down by the Aralla.

The Aralla, however, had turned their attention to the rest of the Fleet in the wake of the _Enterprise's_ destruction. But that Fleet, outgunned as it was, was used to fighting battles on unequal terms, and without the defence of their shields, the Aralla ships were proving themselves inadequate to the task. As were their tactics.

The Aralla had been able to rely on those shields to protect them whilst their weapons battered their way through any defences. But that reliance was misplaced now those shields had failed. Although their centralisation had been the flaw that had been exploited, their complacency had been their true failing.

Seven glanced at Torres, who gave a groan and sat up. She took in her surroundings and stared at the drone. 'Where am I?'

'I got you aboard an escape pod before the _Enterprise_ was destroyed,' answered Seven. Torres took in this information sadly.

'Carey? Vorik?'

'Both dead,' said Seven sadly.

Torres bowed her head for a moment. 'I was trying to get to Engineering to save them,' she said after a moment.

Seven nodded. 'You wouldn't have been able to do anything. The doors were jammed shut.'

Torres sighed. 'I know. But I wanted to try.' Saying no more, she gazed out at the battle raging around them.

Picard, Geordi and Data dashed along the corridor, fleeing from the destruction of the Aralla ship. To all sides, they could hear explosions breaking out and the groans of the hull being demolished.

From one of the adjoining doors, a group of Aralla burst out into the corridor directly before them. Without pausing in surprise, Picard levelled his phaser and shot one down. As Geordi blasted another, the Aralla reacted belatedly. The foremost grabbed Picard's rifle and cast it to one side, and lashed out again, catching him around the neck. The others moved forward, intent on avenging themselves on their hated enemy.

Data sliced down with the bat'leth, chopping the tentacle in half. Pressing forward, he took on another while Geordi fired again, catching an Aralla in the head. Picard managed to disentangle himself, and blasted another with his phaser.

Another loomed over him, and as Picard stared, unable to do anything, it swept down with a killing blow.

It caught a bat'leth directly above Picard's head. The baakonite resisted the tentacle. Data pushed up with his android strength, no expression on his face. The Aralla fell backward.

Data attacked viciously, allowing the Aralla no respite. In his mind swam images of his friends slaughtered by their onslaught, and although his emotion chip did not provide him with the satisfaction of their vengeance, he could at least give himself the comfort of the safety of his friends.

Slashing across the Aralla, he feinted upwards, and thrust forward, sinking the point into the sternum of the creature. The blade withdrew, the Aralla fell, and Data raised the bat'leth for the killing blow. Like an executioner, he beheaded the creature.

Picard watched the android sadly. Relieved as he was at their victory, he was saddened by Data's submission to his violent emotions. Even though his emotion chip was removed, and he could not directly have those feelings, he knew what they were now, and knew what he should be feeling. He could not avoid the android's expression of almost-anger. 'Let's go.'

The trio ran on.

The _Voyager _evaded a blast from a city destroyer and returned fire. The photon torpedoes ripped a gash in its hull that was followed up by a salvo of disruptor fire from the Klingon attack cruiser that _Voyager_ was escorting.

Chakotay stared resolutely at the nearly dead city destroyer that they had fired upon. Fires blazing from its hull, holes that pockmarked the surface – it was in bad shape. Chakotay turned to Tuvok. 'Get me Commander Krellok.'

'Aye, sir,' replied the Vulcan. A moment later, the Klingon's face appeared on the screen.

Chakotay faced him. 'Commander, I recommend that we break off and attack another ship. We should call in a Borg taskforce to finish it off.'

'Agreed. Set course for the second mother ship.'

'Yes, sir,' answered Chakotay. Krellok vanished and Chakotay glanced at Foster.

'Course plotted –'

'Attack planes to starboard!' interrupted Kim. 'They're on an attack course!'

'Fire phasers!' order Chakotay immediately.

A beam of energy washed out and hit the attack plane formation dead-on. Two were blown to pieces, and another was hit by the flying debris, sending it careering into the void. The others stayed on course and opened fire.

The _Voyager's _shields were already badly weakened and now they collapsed under the heavy fire. An explosion burst from the saucer section as the Aralla fighters swept on, turning for another hit.

Chakotay staggered as the attack planes hit the starship, only barely registering Tuvok's report. 'Shields down! Hull breach on deck 3! Emergency forcefields in place and holding.'

Chakotay stared at the fighters on the screen as they bore down on the vulnerable starship. Any moment now, he thought, they will fire.

Any moment now.

The moment came, and went. The Aralla swept overhead and flew on. Chakotay whirled to face Kim. 'Why didn't they fire?'

Kim's face broke out in a beaming smile. 'Sir, the Aralla fleet has stopped firing. The invasive program has taken their weapon systems out.'

Chakotay wore a fierce grin as well. 'Then let's get them.'

The _Voyager_ pulled away from the city destroyer, heading for the mother ship that the rest of the taskforce had already headed for. But at that moment, the city destroyer astern was blown apart by a storm of Borg fire. One vast explosion consumed it, and the huge shockwave swept outward and caught _Voyager_, spinning the starship around and carrying it along in the tidal wave of destructive energy.

The bridge rolled. Chakotay was thrown to the deck as a plasma conduit exploded under the strain, sending a blast of fire across the bridge. The flame caught Foster and fried her immediately. She didn't have time to scream. Her body collapsed to the deck, a charred and blackened skeleton.

Chakotay struggled to his feet, and stared at the approaching horror on the main screen. The vast hull of the mother ship was looming fast towards the starship, far faster than was possible on their engines. He felt despair and failure in his heart as he realised his death.

Behind him, Tuvok acknowledged his end with his Vulcan calm. Kim simply dropped his head. 

The _Voyager_ slammed into the mother ship nose-first. The explosion rent the ship apart, and the warp core exploded. The shockwave ripped into the mother ship, causing thousands of secondary explosions, and savagely battering it's interior. Seeing an opportunity, the Fleet struck home. All of Battlegroup Beta, Martok's group, swung into action.

Romulan Warbirds pummelled the surface, while Klingon warships and smaller Starfleet vessels strafed it with phaser and disruptor fire. Cardassian warships joined in, and a moment later, the Borg assisted.

The mother ship could not resist the barrage of fire. Listing heavily, it tried to flee, but barely kept itself moving. A moment later, it seemed to reel away, and then it broke up in a series of vast explosions. Debris and spinning hull fragments spiralled away, and then the power centre exploded.

The detonation vaporised the immense ship, taking several Fleet vessels along with it. Fire rolled out with a faster shockwave to consume other unshielded Aralla vessels. Two city destroyers fell victim to its fiery death, as well as countless attack fighters.

The conflagration was ignored by the far-off escape pods of the Enterprise, who floated far away from the battle. Only one occupant had seen this.

Seven of Nine's enhanced sight permitted her to see things further away than most humans, and she had relayed the destruction of the _Voyager_ in horrified tones, not thinking of the impact her words would have on the already shaken Torres.

'Chakotay?' said Torres suddenly, her voice shocked. 'Tuvok? Harry? Neelix? All dead?'

Seven turned to look at her companion, and saw the bitter pain there. 'B'Elanna –'

Nothing would stop the Chief Engineer. She began rocking back and forth, tortured by her own self-delusory anger. Then the tears came and she wept openly, ignoring Seven of Nine's astonished look. 'I should have been there! They're all dead and I -' She began sobbing in tortured anger and pain.

Without thinking, Seven reached out and took the other woman into her arms and allowed her to sob at the released anger and sadness she had held suppressed ever since Tom Paris' death.

The other ships in the fleet renewed their attack on the Aralla after seeing the death of one of the once indestructible mother ships. The city destroyers began to fall in fiery conflagrations, until they were in retreat, fleeing from their nemesis. Across the entire Fleet, victory could be sensed. The attack planes were beaten, and the larger cruisers all heavily damaged. The firing intensified, though no order was given.

As had been found by the _Enterprise_ long ago, once the shields were down, the Aralla ships were woefully inadequate to the task of interstellar combat. The hulls, made of the flexible polymorphic metal, were now being torn apart by the weapons of the Fleet. Despite their vast size, a single starship was perfectly capable of destroying even a mother ship. A concentrated attack would destroy a city destroyer in a few short minutes.

Phaser beams lanced into the black hulk, drawing out immense gouts of flame that could consume an entire squadron of starships, which burned briefly in the darkness of space before fading. After the phasers, glittering photon torpedoes slammed into the ships, shattering the hulls that had dominated the minds of those from the Alpha Quadrant for so long.

As Picard had once hoped, the Fleet showed them no mercy.

On the lead mother ship, Picard and the others had reached the attack plane. It was still clamped in place. Why it had not been used in the attack, nobody knew, but it was there. They boarded it, and closed the hatch. Data sat at the controls, and activated the engines.

They wouldn't fire up. Data stared at the controls for a moment, surprise written across his face. He tried again, but there was no response from the engines.

Picard came to the front and stared worriedly at the controls. 'Can you do anything?'

Data stared for a second at the controls before a crazy plan occurred to him. 'Stand well back, Admiral. This might not work.'

Picard looked at him, mystified, and then did as he was asked. A moment later, Data pressed the triggers.

The attack plane spat forth twin blasts of energy into the pillar before them. The explosion blew the plane free of the clamps. The engines activated and Data swung the plane around, and accelerated from the ship. It began curling around the huge pillars, not slowing down, with Data relying on instinct to pilot them safely away from the huge ship.

A squadron of starships, led by the _Defiant_, closed with a city destroyer and fired its quantum torpedoes. The explosions ripped into the firing circle. The blast ripped apart the superweapon, causing an energy recoil. The explosion spread through the ship, and it was consumed by fire as the _Defiant_'s squadron roared away.

As Kira looked about, the screen was clear, and it only showed a few attack planes swarming about, being hunted down by the smaller fighters. Her second in command's voice, Lieutenant Morla, came over her shoulder. 'There are no city destroyers left, Major. We are ordered to begin searching for escape pods while the Borg finish off the mother ships.'

Kira nodded, without turning to look at the other Bajoran. 'How many ships lost?' Moral looked at her panel, and her face dropped for a moment.

'Just over three hundred, mainly Borg Cubes in the first minutes of the attack.' Kira nodded and returned her attention to the screen. Her senses had finally become accustomed to the horrendous losses that the Fleet had been sustaining. There would be little fighting left if they had any luck.

She hoped Sisko and Dax had got off the _Enterprise_.

Sisko stared silently from the escape pod. Bashir watched him worriedly, for Sisko had not said a word after screaming when the _Enterprise_ had been destroyed. He had merely stared pensively out at the battle. Now that the pod was well away from the last of the fighting, he had merely stared into the middle distance.

He owed his life to Dax, in one form or another, and to lose both her body and - what was worse? – the symbiont that held the memories of his friends from the past – that was a crime that he might never forgive himself for.

The attack plane sped through the interior of the mother ship, the blue mist clearing. There was a continuous danger from flying debris, but Data's reactions were up to the task. The attack plane entered the tunnel. Fire reached out to the attack plane from all sides, but the Starfleet officers could at last see the blackness of space.

Their last line of defence, the city destroyers, gone from them, the mother ships of the Aralla invasion force were trying desperately to flee from the Borg onslaught, but to no avail. The green beams and torpedoes slammed into the vast ships, who could not fight, could not flee, because of the debilitating effect of the invasive program that had once been meant for the Collective that destroyed them.

Although three of the survivors tried to make for the blackness of space, the fourth, which was the leader of the Aralla fleet, headed towards the planet. As the others diverted the Borg at the cost of their lives, the last mother ship lumbered towards the Unicomplex of the Collective.

The Borg reacted slowly to this threat, and they waited until two of the three mother ships were dead in space before diverting any ships to the defence of their Unicomplex, as the Fleet fielded the other. A desperate race began, with the Aralla struggling to reach the base for some unknown purpose, while the Cubes, Spheres and Diamonds flitted around it, firing green bursts of energy into the ship. Somehow, the ship struggled on.

The last shots were fired into the mother ship, and as it broke up, the _Defiant_ picked up an escape pod's homing beacon. Cruising alongside, it beamed the occupants aboard.

Sisko and Bashir, both battered and singed, emerged onto the bridge of the _Defiant_. Kira turned to face them, a smile on her face, which faded slightly as she noted the despairing look in Bashir's eyes, and the silently raging expression on Sisko's. She also noted an absentee. 'Where's Jadzia?'

Sisko took his seat, not looking at Kira, focussing his attention on the destruction of the mother ship, and in the distance, the image of the Borg attacking the last Aralla vessel. It was left to Bashir to say, bitterly, 'Jadzia's dead, Nerys. She died on the _Enterprise_.'

Kira stared at the doctor for a moment, not comprehending the full horror of the news. She turned her face away before Bashir could see the tears.

The fighter burst from the confines of the dying Aralla ship. Instantly, Picard and Data saw what lay before them. But it was Geordi who said, 'How did we get that close to the Unicomplex?'

At that moment, they entered the Collective's desperate field of fire. Green fire rained down upon the fighter, aimed at the mother ship. Behind them, the mother ship loomed over the Unicomplex, which itself began firing desperately. But there was no stopping the Aralla's last act of apocalyptic destruction.

To Data, Geordi, Picard and the Fleet, who all watched in stunned silence, it appeared as if it were a battle between two huge prehistoric creatures. Somehow staying intact under the sustained hail of fire, the mother ship completed its last mission.

The Aralla commander stared silently, vacantly, at the dead bodies of its subordinates scattered all around the command room. It was alone for the first time, surrounded only by the dead and dying. He too, was dying, although perverse fate had chosen it to be the last surviving Aralla to witness his race's final reckoning.

It was nearly over, ending a universe away from where it had all begun when the Borg had attacked the Triumvirate. By now, the Aralla trapped on the other side of the dimensional rift would have been destroyed by the humans, and his race would be extinct. The commander knew in his last seconds that he had failed his entire race personally. But there was one last piece of vengeance, and he intended to live to see it carried out.

Slowly, stiffly, he stood up and watched on the last surviving screen as the Unicomplex drew closer, and closer.

And at the moment of impact, he triggered the power centre.

The black Aralla mother ship crashed, almost gently, into the equally black surface of the Borg Unicomplex. At the very moment of collision, a vast explosion burst out of the mother ship, blowing apart the huge ship in sections, from the stern heading forward. As the explosions consumed the vessel, it claimed the Unicomplex as well. Flame washed over the Unicomplex, burning the hull, and igniting hundreds of secondary explosions. Then, as the final fireball ripped the last Aralla ship apart, the Unicomplex was vaporised as well.

The numerous Borg ships that had harried the mother ship for so long tried to flee, but they were doomed as well. As the Unicomplex died, their connection to the dying Collective was severed. They ground to a halt in space, and then ripped themselves apart in a single explosion.

Although the Collective was directed by a single mind, the Borg had to be controlled via the Unicomplex. Once the Unicomplex was destroyed, the Collective and all the drones, Cubes, Spheres, Diamonds and scoutships died with it. As the Aralla had known they would.

Within seconds, the Borg ships all across the Fleet had started exploding. The Borg, as they had been known to the entire Alliance and the entire galaxy, became extinct in moments. It was the ultimate price they would pay for their relentless march across the galaxy and the universe.

As their nemesis, the Aralla, died, so did the Borg.

And Picard felt it all.

His mouth opened in a soundless scream as the shockwave from the Unicomplex and the Aralla's destruction caught the attack plane, tossing it like a leaf in a breeze, before casting it into the atmosphere. That physical shockwave could not be matched in intensity by the mental shockwave that struck Picard in his brain. He felt their deaths, all of them, felt his connection snap from his mind. He stumbled and knocked Data from his seat as the android fought to control the fighter.

There was nothing any of them could do to alter the ultimate fate of the last vestige of the Aralla's existence. The fighter came tumbling from the sky in a blaze of fire. Data struggled to his seat again and tried to correct its tumble and level its descent. It scraped the ground, and smashed along the surface, tearing up rocks in its wake. The plane gave one last bounce, and slammed, nose-first, into the surface. It buried its nose in the ground and crashed to a halt. Geordi, Picard and Data were thrown about like helpless toys as the plane stopped moving. At the point of impact, the entire cockpit was smashed open and dirt poured in, burying the bodies of the three heroes. Inside, all was silent.

Picard awoke to see sunlight, shining through a rent in the hull onto his face. He tried to move and found his leg was trapped under a seat. He leaned over and tried to move it, and it just slid off. Amazingly, after that crash, he could still feel all of his limbs, and move them. His suit was tattered, but otherwise he was only slightly injured. Abruptly, he realised that having his leg trapped under the seat had saved him. If he hadn't been kept in one place, the crash would have thrown him about the back of the ship, hitting all the bulkheads, and probably causing serious injuries.

And then he felt it – the emptiness in his mind, the space where there should have been the innumerable, whispering voices of the Borg. For a moment, Picard simply sat and stared silently, unused to solitude after even the limited contact of his mind to the Collective. He now understood what it was to be severed from the Borg.

And then he saw something which put that out of his mind altogether. 'Data! Geordi!'

Picard clambered over to where his friends' bodies lay. 'Geordi!' he called desperately as he examined his Chief Engineer's face, and felt for a pulse. There was none. His body was cold, and badly burnt. He had been killed in the crash. Sadly, Picard closed the artificial eyes, which stared into the ceiling. 

Picard looked across at Data. 'Data, are you still functional?' The android moved stiffly. As he got up, Picard gasped in horror, for part of his face was burnt away, revealing badly damaged circuitry and erratically flashing lights. Data looked across at Picard. 

'C-C-Captain?' It became apparent that Data was badly damaged. 

'Data, can you run a self-diagnostic?' Data seemed to look inward. He looked at Picard with glazed eyes.

'Memory failing, power at twelve percent. Expected lifespan of this unit, thirty seconds.' The voice of Data slurred badly, and sounded metallic. Suddenly, his face cleared.

'Switching to back-ups. Operational expectancy, two minutes until final auto-shutdown.' He looked up at Picard.

'Captain, where are we?' Picard gripped Data's shoulder.

'Don't worry about it.' All he could do was to make Data's final time as fair on the android as possible. 'Geordi is dead also.' Data's head turned slowly towards La Forge.

'Geordi? Our helmsman?' Picard frowned and then realised what was happening. As Data's memory failed, his memory was regressing. That is why he called Picard captain, which he had not been known as for two years now. He preferred it to Grand Admiral.

'Where is Worf? Doctor Crusher? Commander Riker?' Data gripped Picard's arm, his eyes failing as his friend disappeared from his view. 'Where are they?'

Picard could not bring himself to tell the dying android the truth. 'They're all waiting for you, Data,' he said. 'You will see them again. Data,' Picard tried to think of something encouraging to say to his friend, seeing his last link with the past disappear before his eyes, which themselves were tearing, 'Data, well done.' The android smiled, albeit very puzzledly.

'Thank you, sir.' His eyes looked past Picard. 'My name is Data. Hello, Doctor Soong.' Suddenly, his eyes glazed over, and the lights on his skull flickered once, and died. Data lost the vital force that made him a vibrant living person instead of a lump of cold inanimate metal.

He died in Picard's arms, who set him down and wept for his dead crew.

Their long voyage together was over.

The Fleet had recovered all of the escape pods after the battle. Most of the _Enterprise_ crew had survived the destruction of their ship. Thames and Truper had been retrieved by the Cardassian ship _Elmar_, and Seven and Torres by the USS _Appalacia_.

Sisko had remained on the _Defiant_, even though most of the crew had left for the surface to join the celebrations beginning below. After naming the day as a holiday, he had sat in the captain's chair, brooding darkly.

After an hour, Bashir entered the bridge, his face worried. 'Sir, do you wish to come down to the surface? People are beginning to –'

'_People_ can take care of themselves,' said Sisko, not looking around. 'I wish to stay here.'

Unsuccessful. Bashir tried another tack. 'Has there been any word on Grand Admiral Picard and the away team?'

Sisko shook his head. 'No. However, it would be nearly impossible to tell in the amount of residual energy and debris that we've got covering the planet after the Unicomplex was destroyed. We'll have to wait until that clears before we can mount a proper search.'

Sisko's voice was calm, unmodulated, revealing no trace of his feelings inside. Bashir sighed, and turned away.

After a few hours, the residual energy had mostly faded, allowing for scans that could sweep the planet. It was the USS _Gorkon_ that spotted the unusual metallic mass that rested on the surface of the planet. Polymorphic metal was a unique artificial alloy, and thus the Aralla attack plane showed up plainly on scans.

Oddly, then, Sisko ordered the _Gorkon_ to back off, and personally took the _Rio Grande_, one of those runabouts from _DS9_, and went to retrieve whatever remained of the away team. It could only be conjectured as to why Picard or the others had not communicated with the Fleet or the base. The residual energy had not blocked communications at all.

The runabout sped low over the surface of the planet, heading north. That was where the unusual signal had been picked up, somewhere just below the polar circle that surrounded the northern polar ice cap.

Sisko kept a careful eye on the scanners, but his mind continually cast back to what had happened during the battle. He did not want to fail another friend. He would not allow Picard to die because of another mistake that he, Ben Sisko, had made. Maybe, if he could complete the Fleet's victory by returning their leader to them, he might be able to sleep again at night without seeing Dax's face in his dreams.

Nightmares would be a more accurate description for the tortured images his consciousness cast into his mind to torment him.

Sisko was startled by the bleep of the scanner. He quickly analysed what it told him and smiled in triumph. It showed a large mass of polymorphic metal, and a single life-form nearby. Sisko quickly altered course and increased his speed, confidence swelling in his heart.

The _Rio Grande_ shot towards the crash site, and Sisko could see the large mass that signalled the attack plane's final resting place. He set the runabout down, and opened the door.

Immediately, he felt the cold rush of air that signalled how close to the pole he was. Although there was no ice, the ground was barren, and it was a sure bet that before too long, this area would be frozen solid. Already he could see high mountains in the distance through the clear, frigid air that bore glacial snow on the lower slopes.

He stared for a moment at the wreck. The attack plane had hit the ground hard, and skidded a long way before coming to a halt. He could see the actual impact crater about a quarter of a mile to the north.

'Admiral Picard! Captain Data! Commander La Forge!' He stepped closer to the wreck, trying for a look inside, almost fearful for what he might find.

'You won't find anyone alive there, Ben.' Sisko turned at the voice, and saw Picard walking towards him. His uniform was tattered, and the Admiral looked exhausted. But his eyes shone with the realisation of victory.

'Thank God I've found you,' breathed Sisko, his eyes worried. 'Why didn't you contact the Fleet?'

'Our commbadges were destroyed in the crash,' said Picard shortly. 'How did the battle go?'

Sisko forced a smile. 'We won.'

'I know _that_,' said Picard impatiently. 'How badly did we fare?'

'I assume you realised that the entire Borg fleet was destroyed when the Aralla mother ship rammed the Unicomplex.' At Picard's nod, Sisko continued, 'We lost more than three hundred starships from all across the Fleet. However, the majority of our strength is still intact. I believe that we can claim a total victory.'

'Did any Aralla ships survive?'

Sisko did smile genuinely this time. 'No. Not one.'

Picard smiled as well, his countenance becoming relieved. He muttered to himself, 'Avenged.' Sisko did not have to ask what he meant by that.

'However,' said Sisko, 'we took some personal losses.'

'How so?'

'First of all, Admiral Jaled and Gul Dukat were killed during the battle.' Sisko had seen Dukat's ship go down fighting off more than a thousand attack planes as his squadron managed to destroy a pair of city destroyers.

Picard bowed his head. 'I am only grateful that we did not lose more Battlegroup commanders.'

'Secondly, _Voyager_ was destroyed.'

Picard's expression became saddened. 'I feel personally responsible for those deaths. I asked Captain Janeway's crew to join us, believing it was the best way for them to complete their journey. And look what it got them.'

Sisko did not agree, but he continued, 'Lastly, the _Enterprise_ was destroyed.'

Picard drew in his breath sharply. 'I told you to look after her. My crew?' _Thames?_

'The bridge crew survived,' began Sisko, and then his face fell, remembering the only one who had not. Picard saw his face, and stepped closer to Sisko.

'What happened?' he asked quietly.

'My first officer, Jadzia Dax – she died –' Sisko's eyes filled with tears and he turned away, angry with himself. Picard laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

'I know what she meant to you, Ben. I'm sorry. I know that there's nothing that I can say to make the situation better, but you have my condolences.'

Sisko nodded, blinking back the tears. 'Thank you, Admiral.' His mind cast back to nearly two years before, when Picard castigated him for succumbing to his depression at the deaths of Jake and Kasidy. He had not thought of those names for so long!

Picard recognised in Sisko what he had gone through so long before. He had lost everything to the Aralla scourge, and now that he was avenged, he could afford to give Sisko some comfort in his loss. They had both suffered so much, and neither of them had anything or anyone to lean on for support – except, possibly, each other.

Picard slowly withdrew his hand, and realised that Sisko had something to lean on now, unlike his superior. Sisko had those people who cared for him, the survivors of his crew, and the post of President to occupy him in future. He would recover from the tragic losses of this war, eventually, slowly.

Picard had used the Aralla as his psychological crutch for so long, and he had forgotten what it was like to have nothing to blame or to brood on that it was an alien sensation to him. Now, he had nothing. He had handed over the reins of power to Sisko. Even his positions as Praetor of the Romulans and Acting Chancellor of the Klingons would fall by the wayside under the new agreement for alliance. Sisko had taken those roles onto his own shoulders, and Picard had nothing. By his own hand.

The man who had looked to the future whilst remaining in the present had been consumed by the hatred and actions of the past. Picard, for the first time in his life, was alone. Totally alone.

Sisko had recovered his composure now. He faced Picard and brought the situation Picard had just realised into stark relief. 'Where are Captain Data and Commander La Forge?'

Picard stared at him vacantly and jerked a thumb vaguely over his shoulder. 'They're over there. Killed in the crash.'

Sisko closed his eyes for a moment, and then stepped over in the direction that Picard had indicated. Two long graves marred the ground, and a shaped section of the hull beside them marked what Picard had used for a shovel. Sisko stood there for a moment before he felt Picard standing beside him. 'They were good men.'

Picard nodded. 'I was privileged to serve with them all and we sometimes take what we are privileged to have for granted. They were the best crew in Starfleet.'

Perhaps in older days, Sisko might have disagreed in the name of crew solidarity, but Picard had merely spoken the exact truth. No hyperbole, no prideful boasting - just a simple acknowledgement of the sheer abilities of the crew which had led the war against the Aralla from the front right from the beginning.

Will Riker, Beverly Crusher, Deanna Troi, Data, Geordi La Forge, and even those who had left to join _DS9's_ crew – Worf and Miles O'Brien. Those names would live in the memories of all those came after, so that their achievements and deaths would not be in vain.

The two men stood at the graves silently until the sky was dark.


	24. Fated

__

Chapter XXIV

The _Rio Grande_ finally arrived back at Vegryo base in the early evening. The graves of Data and La Forge had been left undisturbed, and Picard wanted it to be so.

Sisko and Picard stepped from the runabout right into the teeth of thunderous applause from the hundreds crowded into the large hangar area of the third base. Klingons shouted their salutes, Romulans and humans clapped loudly alongside Cardassian and Ferengi soldiers, shouting their appreciation for the two leaders.

The _Rio Grande_ had not announced it's approach, but it had been spotted on sensors long before, and hundreds more people who could not squeeze into the hangar wished to shower their congratulations on their leaders.

Thames, Bashir and Kira were not among those squeezed out, though. Special space had been created for those three so that they could approach, as they did now, and escort the two through the throng.

Bashir shook Sisko's hand, glad to see that the Admiral's mood had lightened somewhat whilst he had been away. Kira gave Sisko and Picard embraces and Thames did likewise, although in Picard's case it was perceptibly longer. Picard felt almost embarrassed at the public show of affection, but already he realised that maybe the future would not be as bleak as he had thought.

Finally, the escort allowed them to navigate the throng of people, and eventually the crowd returned to it's individual celebrations – celebrations given extra meaning now that they knew that their leaders had survived everything the Aralla could throw at them.

Picard decided to retire to his quarters, but he made a detour along the way.

Lieutenant Truper tried to sit up as he saw Picard peering around the door frame into the sickbay. Hedly, who was sitting with the young man, managed to get him to sit back again, helped by Picard saying, 'At ease, Lieutenant.'

Truper nodded gratefully, and sank back, trying not to let the pain show. Picard stared at the young man for a moment, realising how little he really knew about his young crew that had succeeded his old senior staff. He also realised how much he had relied on their performance throughout the war. They had been the backbone of the _Enterprise_, and he knew that now. 'How are you, Lieutenant?'

'I'm okay, sir,' said Truper bravely. 'I think I'll be up and about in a few days.' As he said that, a trace of pain crossed his face, giving the lie to his brave performance.

Hedly gave him a look of pure disbelief and looked up at Picard. 'Sir, that is not true. He broke his left arm in two places, three ribs and fractured his pelvis. He's not going anywhere at all.' Picard could see the light of concern burning in her eyes, and realised something else. It was something that would have been shipboard gossip in less than a week after it started, once.

He exchanged a few words with the injured lieutenant, but realised that the younger man was very tired and he said his goodbyes, and made to leave.

Hedly came with him to the door, and Picard turned to her, a smile on his lips and in his eyes. 'You are very concerned for him, aren't you?'

Hedly nodded slightly, glancing abashed at the floor. 'How long?' asked Picard gently.

'A few weeks, sir,' admitted Hedly. 'I don't know why – it just happened.' A look of concern crossed her face. 'You won't tell anyone?'

For a moment, Picard had the privilege of seeing his calm, cool, collected security chief reduced to an anxious teenager. He smiled. 'No. I'm just surprised at myself for missing it for so long. Something like that would have been shipboard gossip almost before it started before the war.'

Hedly smiled slightly, relieved. 'Thank you, sir.'

Picard turned away to leave, and then something struck him and he faced Truper again. 'Lieutenant, I know this might be a strange question, but I never found out. What's your first name?'

Truper gave him a puzzled look, but answered, 'Christopher, sir. Christopher Truper.'

Picard stared at his helmsman. 'Well, I declare,' he said vaguely after a moment, and turned and left.

As the celebrations continued long into the night of Vegryo VII, Kira Nerys slipped away and stared out at the star-studded darkness of space, thinking her own private thoughts. A footfall cracked a twig behind her, and she turned to face Dr. Bashir. 'Julian,' she acknowledged.

'Nerys, I thought you should know; the survivors of the Vedek Council are meeting at the moment.'

'Yes?' she asked, puzzled.

'They are expected to choose you to be the next Kai.'

'_What!?'_

'I thought that was how you would react,' said Bashir uncomfortably.

'Why _me?_' Kira turned away from Bashir and stared out at the night again. 'I don't want to be Kai. It should go to someone else; someone more experienced!' She smiled ruefully. 'Maybe even someone more spiritual.'

'It was proposed by the Bajoran crew of the _Defiant_ and those who were pulled off Bajor before the Aralla destroyed it. Like it or not, we're all celebrities now.' Bashir smiled disarmingly. 'I'm going to be the new Head of Starfleet Medical.'

Kira smiled. 'Congratulations.' Her voice became questioning again. 'Now what the hell did they choose me for?'

'Yevlin Meris, my intern, said that it was due to your exceptional courage and your religious faith. She said that you would be the best possible leader for the Bajorans in a time of rebuilding. Most of the Bajorans on the _Defiant_ who met you agreed.'

'You're joking!' She whirled and advanced on Bashir, who retreated. 'This is a sick joke, isn't it, Julian?'

'My sense of humour isn't that strange, Major. _I_ happen to think it's a very good idea.'

'Traitor.' The insult was warm, with a sense of resignation. 'I can't really say no, can I?'

'Not unless you wanted to abandon your people,' agreed Bashir. 'Just look on it as something to do with the rest of your life.'

Kira nodded, and her gaze turned to the low dome of the base. 'Does the Emissary know?'

Bashir shrugged. 'I don't know.' Kira nodded again, and walked past Bashir, who turned and looked after her, puzzled.

Seven of Nine stalked along the corridors, nodding her greeting to the occasional passing well-wisher, but her outward calm demeanour did not reflect the inner turmoil she felt. B'Elanna Torres' presence as the only other survivor from _Voyager_ meant that they now had a bond – one which was unspoken, and, in Torres' case, unacknowledged. And Torres had felt good in her arms....

Seven put the thought from her mind, and continued down the corridor, not knowing where she headed – only knowing that she headed where fate led her.

Fate always had surprises in store. Torres appeared at the other end of the corridor. Seven stopped dead in shock.

For a long moment, the two women stared at each other. Then Torres stepped forward slightly. 'Seven, I'm sorry for what happened in the escape pod.'

'Why?' asked Seven.

Torres looked embarrassed. 'I thought that display of unwarranted emotion would be uncomfortable for you.'

Seven smiled slightly. Now that she had perfected the expression, the fleeting thought passed through Torres' mind, it complemented Seven's looks perfectly. 'I feel the same, B'Elanna. I know what you are going through, I believe.'

Torres stared at the ex-drone for a moment. 'I never considered that you would,' she breathed at last. 'I'm sorry.'

Seven shook her head. 'Don't be.'

The ice broken, the two drew slightly closer. And then, Torres' communicator bleeped, breaking the silence. She tapped it, her face flushed. 'Torres here.'

'Lieutenant,' said the voice of a young man, 'we've picked up another escape pod that was floating on the outskirts of the battlefield. I thought you might like to know it was from _Voyager_.'

Torres stared at Seven, who wore the same expression of shock. 'Where?'

'USS _Nagasaki_,' said the young man. 'We're in orbit now.'

'I'm on my way,' said Torres immediately 'Torres out.' She looked at Seven. 'Want to come?'

Seven smiled again. 'Thank you.'

Sisko was sat in his office on the surface when the knock came at the door.

A knock came on the door. 'Enter.' The door slid aside. Kira stood there. Sisko stood to a form of attention.

'Kai Nerys!' Kira shook her head.

'I'm just Major Kira at the moment. I know that being the only candidate for Kai, I'm going to win this election, but the votes are not counted until midnight. Anyway, who told you?'

'A little bird.' Sisko relaxed slightly. He studied her, and he was amazed by the transformation.

She looked distraught by the destruction visited upon her people during the war, knowing that she had to rebuild the Bajoran people, and guide them religiously. It was a good thing that she was such a religious Bajoran, and that she was so close to the Emissary.

She had dark areas below her eyes from sleeplessness, but what had hit her hardest was the death of Dax. Sisko shook his head slightly. 'What did you want to see me about?' Kira smiled wearily.

'I just wanted to see if you wanted any help with the....' She broke off and yawned, swaying slightly on her feet. 'I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired.'

Sisko frowned. 'On someone else, that might have worked. I know you too well. You're completely exhausted. Have you had any sleep recently?' Kira shook her head sleepily.

'No.' She fell forward. Sisko launched himself out his chair and caught her in time. She looked up at him. 'Thanks.' Sisko shook his head and smiled.

'Come on.' He led her over to the bed he kept in his quarters. 'Sleep here tonight. I won't need it.' Kira tried to struggle, but Sisko laid her down, and sat on the end of the bed.

'Where are you going to sleep?' Sisko shrugged.

'On the chair. I'm extremely busy at the moment.' Kira frowned and then smiled.

'Do you remember that time on the _Defiant_, when we chased that group of Jem'Hadar in that planet's atmosphere and we were seriously damaged?' Sisko smiled.

'Could I forget?' Kira laughed lightly.

'Remember, we were on the bridge, and I told you I had trouble making a non-business acquaintance with you?' Sisko smiled, until he saw the serious look on Kira's face. He got up.

'I'd better get back to work.' He turned away, but Kira's voice stopped him.

'Benjamin.' Sisko turned, to see Kira getting out of the bed. 'Dax is dead. Almost everybody we know is dead. Don't tell me that you haven't been hit badly by that.'

'Yes, but what's brought this on?'

Kira gave him a puzzled look, anger and sadness rising. 'We've just survived the bloodiest war to ever afflict the galaxy, and you ask what brought it on? I'll tell you – the death of almost everyone I cared for! Dax, Odo, Miles – even Quark! And I don't know about you, but I don't feel that this is a moment to celebrate!'

Sisko stared at her, and realised what he had been doing. He reached to her, but she turned away. 'I'm sorry,' he said at last, voice trembling. 'I've been putting my personal feelings above everyone else's. I've been wallowing in my own self-pity for so long that I don't even know how to express them anymore and the worst thing is, you were right....'

Sisko felt the emotion building up uncontrollably behind the words, felt the pressure of all the words left unsaid and feelings left unaired. He finally broke down, releasing the emotion he had kept held up until this point from the beginning of the war. Kira held him in her arms for a few minutes, allowing him to release the emotion that he had held in to her. She kissed the top of his head, rocking the admiral in her arms and making comforting sounds.

Then, he returned the kiss with interest.

Picard sat in his new quarters aboard theUSS_ Sovereign_, the new command ship of the Fleet, listening to the soft sounds of a Mozart piece, and drinking a cup of Earl Grey. A knock came on the door. 'Come in.'

Bashir walked through the door. 'Admiral,' greeted the new head of Starfleet Medical.

Picard smiled up at the young man. 'Dr. Bashir.' Bashir held out a padd, which Picard took. 'What's this?

'Chancellor Martok asked me to give you it,' said Bashir. 'He and the other Battlegroup leaders have drawn up their recommendations for the new Alliance hierarchy.'

Picard smiled slightly as though he knew something that Bashir did not. Glancing through the information contained within, he nodded, pleased. 'These are excellent choices.' Bashir smiled.

'I thought you'd like it.'

'However,' added Picard, 'it is not my decision.' He tossed the padd back to Bashir again.

'Sir?' Bashir frowned as he caught it. 'You are leader of the Alliance.'

'Wrong.' Picard smiled and remembered his conversation with Ben Sisko. 'I am simply the Grand Admiral of Starfleet. Ben Sisko is the leader of the Alliance. Give it to him.' The doctor nodded and left. Picard walked to the replicator and set his cup down on the grid.

He looked out at the stars outside his quarters, and said to himself with a grin, 'They never learn.'

He turned, picked up a padd that had a long and involving story on, and started to read.

Bashir wandered along the corridor towards Ben Sisko's quarters, listening to the sounds of celebration outside the building. As he approached the door to Sisko's quarters, he slowed and knocked on the door. There was no answer. Bashir tried again, for he knew that Sisko was working, instead of celebrating.

The door slid open, revealing Ben Sisko, dressed only in a dressing gown. '_What the hell do you want?'_

Bashir recoiled from the shock of the shout, and meekly handed the padd to Sisko. 'Sorry, Admiral, I didn't realise that you were sleeping.'

'Who is it, Ben?' Kira's voice floated sleepily over Sisko's shoulder. Bashir's eyes widened in pure shock as he looked at his commanding officer.

'Major Kira!' Ben Sisko nodded ruefully, his expression softening.

'Don't ask. It's a long story. And I _won't_ tell you later.' Kira's face appeared over Sisko's shoulder.

'Hello, Julian!' she said, an expression of delight on her face. 'Benjamin and I are celebrating. Go away and have a drink for us.'

'Aye, sir!' Bashir turned and stumbled away down the corridor.

He walked into the bar of the main base, which was full of celebrating people. He sat at the bar and the bartender came up to him. 'Can I get you a drink?' Bashir looked at him in stunned shock.

'A triple vodka, please. A real spirit, if you can.' His voice was a horrified whisper. A minute later, the drink arrived.

He picked it up, and lifted it. 'Here's to you, Admiral Sisko and Major Kira.' He downed it in one, to the amazement of the bartender. Turning, he set the glass on the bar.

'Another.'

About an hour later, the door buzzed. 'Come in,' said Picard distractedly.

'Admiral?'

Picard looked up in genuine surprise, and put the padd on the desk, reluctant to look at it now something worthier of his interest had entered the room. 'Lieutenant Commander Thames, what can I do for you?'

Thames handed him another padd. 'Sir, this is a petition by the former crew of the USS _Enterprise_ to you. It concerns the return to Earth. The crew wish to have a monument erected beside the old statue of Zefram Cochrane, dedicated to the entire crew of the USS _Enterprise_.' Picard nodded.

'Speak to Admiral Sisko about it. It's his decision. Personally, I'm all for it. Was there anything else?' Thames shook her head

'No, sir. I'll go -' Picard seized the moment.

'Don't, Commander. I'd like to speak with you. Sit down, Commander.' Thames sat on a chair directly opposite Picard, slightly uncomfortable at the surroundings. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'Well, I don't know, Admiral...' she began.

'You're off duty, Commander. Enjoy yourself. Shall I make it an order?' His order was accompanied by a smile.

Thames smiled back, accepting the inevitable. I was right, thought Picard. She is _incredibly _attractive when she smiles. 'I assume you can do a liqueur coffee?' Picard nodded and headed for the replicator. He returned a moment later, carrying a perfectly made coffee in a glass and a brandy for himself.

Handing the coffee to Thames, he settled in his seat and watched her for a second. 'Tell me about yourself, Commander.' Thames nodded and Picard sighed at her fondness for formality.

'I come from London,' she began. 'I joined Starfleet in 2369 – I'd always wanted to – and I graduated in 2373, and was immediately assigned to the _Enterprise_. I think that I've always been lucky in that respect.'

'What do you mean?' Thames smiled, and sipped her coffee.

'Well, up until the war, everything in life had gone by fairly smoothly. I guess it just saved all of the bad luck up for now.'

Picard nodded and smiled, understanding the sentiments. 'Story of my life.'

Thames frowned. 'How do you mean, sir?'

'Okay, you asked for it!' Thames laughed.

'I'd be honoured if you would, sir,' she said earnestly, beginning to feel a little more comfortable. `I think you must have led one of the most interesting lives possible.'

'It's been… odd,' admitted Picard. `Can I call you by your first name?'

'Rosanna, sir.'

'Call me Jean-Luc.'

A pause.

'It's very cosy, here, don't you think?'

'Is it?'

'Can't say I mind.'

Bashir sat on the barstool next to General Martok. Both were completely drunk.

'An' then, we fight off these Arallash, and I find out that my commanding officer has started a relationship with M – Major Krira –' He concentrated. 'Kira.'

'Relax, doctor,' said Martok, who's command of galactic standard was far better than Bashir's when drunk. 'He's allowed to.' He belched loudly and slammed his tankard on the bar. 'More bloodwine!'

'I'm going back to my quarters, Gin – Gan – Martok. Want to come and have another drink?'

'Absolutely.'

Bashir finished the last of his drink, which was his fifteenth triple vodka. He then stood, tottered away from the stool, and crashed in a heap on the deck. Martok roared in laughter, and stood, in order to raise the doctor. He collapsed beside him.

Torres' face brightened as soon as the turbolift doors slid open and she could see the hangar deck of the _Nagasaki_. `Naomi!'

Naomi Wildman rushed forward, tears of relief streaking her cheeks as she saw Seven and Torres before her. `I'd thought you'd been killed!' she sobbed as she clung to Torres' uniform.

`We thought the same, Naomi,' said Seven, kneeling down to embrace the child. She leant back slightly after a moment to look into Naomi's eyes. `Where is your mother?'

`I don't know,' said Naomi, her voice still trembling. `She wouldn't let me be apart from her during the battle, so she put me onto an escape pod, and the last I saw of her was when she launched it. She looked upset. Then _Voyager_ exploded –' She began crying again, and Seven hugged her tighter, letting the tears soak away.

She picked up Naomi, and smiled at the young lieutenant who had come with them. `Thank you for letting us know, Lieutenant,' she said.

`I thought that one of you was her mother,' said the young man. Torres threw a surprised glance at Seven but before she could speak, Seven interrupted.

`We'll leave that for the moment,' she said mysteriously. The young man shrugged as if it were no concern of his, and the two women turned and left.

Torres said little on the way back to the base until Seven of Nine had laid Naomi in her bed, allowing the young girl to get some sleep. She stared anxiously from the door for a moment, before Seven came out and closed the door gently behind her. Torres favoured her with a surprised look. `I'm surprised.'

`How so?'

`I didn't realise that you had the capacity for such gentleness,' said Torres honestly. `It appears I've misjudged you, Seven.'

Seven smiled slightly in the half-light. `Thank you, B'Elanna. I'm sorry for all of the bad-mouthing that's gone on between us since we met.' A _quid pro quo,_ out in the open. Torres smiled as well.

`Who'd have thought the two of us would ever learn humility?' This evoked genuine laughter.

After a moment, Torres asked, seriously, `What was all that business about in the hangar bay?'

Seven sighed, and sat down, and Torres followed her example. `I just thought that we're the only two people in the world that she knows at the moment. Everyone else is dead. Everyone she's ever met is dead. She's even more alone than us, B'Elanna. That's wrong at her age.'

Torres stared at Seven, no longer surprised at what the other woman was saying, but surprised at herself not spotting the change in her. Seven of Nine had, at last, grown up. She was now an adult person. The icy coolness with which she had protected herself for so long was now gone, irrevocably lost, and was replaced with a serene calmness that hid a very emotional and caring person. And, for some reason, Torres felt herself drawn to this woman more than she had been drawn to almost anyone else in her life – perhaps even on a par with Tom. And that was an extremely unexpected feeling.

Seven glanced up at Torres. `What do you think?'

`We're all alone, Seven,' said Torres eventually. `You, me, Naomi. We've been alone for so long, and we never realised what it might be like to have to adjust to that. We're all we have, together.'

Seven frowned. `What are you saying?'

`I'm not sure,' whispered Torres, reaching out her hand to Seven. `But I'd like to find out.'

Seven paused, and then put her hand in Torres'. B'Elanna drew the ex-Borg closer to her, and then, gently, nervously, kissed her.

For Seven, that moment was the fulfilment of dreams long held. She wanted to press forward, but allowed Torres to take it at her own pace. Torres released Seven a moment later. `I've never kissed a woman before,' she said after a moment.

`Me neither,' replied Seven, smiling. `I liked it,' she added, easing Torres' fears that she might have pushed the line. Torres leaned forward again, but Seven stopped her gently. `Are you sure you want to do this thing?'

Torres nodded urgently, but Seven said, `What about Tom? Are you _sure_?'

`Tom told me to get on with my life,' said B'Elanna. `I realised when Voyager was destroyed that I spent far too long mourning him. I nearly wasted away doing that. Even Chakotay couldn't bring me round.' She leaned forward again, and said, `Don't stop it, Seven. Just let it happen. We'll find out if it was right in the morning.'

`What about Naomi?' asked Seven, leaning her head back and gasping as Torres kissed her neck.

`The rooms are soundproof.'

And then the conversation ended.

It was 0200 hours when the door slid aside. Thames stepped out and turned to Picard.

'Well thank you, Rosanna,' said Picard, not without a trace of regret. 'It's been nice talking to you.'

Thames nodded, her own face slightly disappointed, although she did her best to hide it. 'It's been good, Jean-Luc. Can we do this again sometime?'

Picard smiled. 'I don't see why not.' Thames nodded, and began to walk away. She hesitated, and then turned to face Picard. 'Jean-Luc, there's something else.'

'Oh yes?' Thames stepped close, and kissed Picard lightly on the lips. Picard smiled, and, encouraged, she kissed him deeply. They backed into the room again. The door slid shut.

Sisko was woken suddenly by the bleeper on his commbadge. Tapping it on his uniform on the chair beside him, he said, 'Sisko.'

'Admiral, do you know where Major Kira is? She's not answering her comm.' Sisko turned and looked at the sleeping Kira, who was nestled in the crook of his arm.

'I could find her easily enough. Why?' The voice came back and he recognised it as being Vedek Terat, the new Bajoran speaker for the Vedek Assembly.

'The votes are counted. She is the new Kai.'

Sisko smiled. 'I'll tell her. Thank you.' He turned back to Kira, and traced his finger along her back. She woke at this touch, and turned to him.

'What is it, Benjamin?' she asked sleepily.

'I have some good news. You're the new Kai of the Bajoran people, Nerys.' She smiled. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer.

'I think that calls for a celebration, don't you?' she purred. Sisko didn't need much persuasion.

It was Sisko who gave the order, two days later. The Fleet had dismantled the base on Vegryo's surface, bidding a regretful farewell to the planet which had been the site of their first victory in the war.

Torres and Naomi Wildman stood at one of the windows on the _Sovereign's_ observation deck, watching as the work bees, tugs and shuttles coming from the surface brought the materials back to the Fleet, in preparation for departure. Torres pointed out the occasional shuttle to Naomi, but rejoiced in the simple pleasure of standing and watching the beautiful blue-green orb below rotate under them.

The door hissed open, and Torres turned to see Seven step through. For the moment, they were keeping their relationship quiet, but it seemed, from the expression of pleasure on Seven's face, that it might not be that way any longer. She held up a padd, and said, simply, `Got it!'

Torres broke into a smile, and rushed forward to embrace Seven. Releasing her, she looked at the padd, her smile getting bigger.

Naomi turned, curious at the excitement. `What's the matter?'

Seven leaned closer. `Naomi, we'd like to ask you an important question. Take your time to think about the answer. If possible, would you like to live with us –' She indicated herself and Torres - `as a family? We'd be your mothers,' she added.

Naomi glanced from one to the other, and then, wreathed in excited smiles, said, `Could I?'

Torres said, `We've already asked the President himself for permission. He said, if you wanted, then we could look after you from now on.' 

Naomi beamed happily. `Yes! Oh, yes please!'

Seven glanced at Torres, who also wore an excited smile, and then reached out and hugged Naomi. Alone no longer.

`Yes, I agree. It's still quicker than transwarp all the way,' said Picard. Sisko nodded and glanced at the others. As expected, Chancellor Martok and Daimon Kreal also agreed.

`Agreed then. We will head for the Gamma Quadrant, and come through the wormhole to Bajor,' said Sisko. He deactivated the map that was displayed on the screen and faced them again.

They were all in the briefing room of the _Sovereign_. This ship, home to Picard now, was not the flagship of the Fleet. That honour now belonged to the _Defiant_, but the _Sovereign_ was the only other ship in the Fleet that had equalled the _Enterprise _as a centrepoint for the Fleet. It was also the handiest ship with a full briefing room. The _Defiant_, as a warship, had no such amenities.

`And now, the last matter,' said Sisko. `A replacement for Admiral Jaled and myself as leaders of Beta and Alpha respectively.' He glanced at Picard. `Admiral, as C-in-C of Starfleet and Praetor of the Star Empire, you have the honour of nominating for both.'

Picard nodded. `For Alpha, the choice is simple. Someone who led it during the battle, and is experienced at command, as well as being well-liked by those under their command. I nominate Kai Nerys.'

Sisko nodded, knowing that he had suggested it to Picard the day before. It was only fair. `And for Beta?'

`The Romulan Senate has recommended one person who they believe could do the job for them. Commander Serisa was first officer to Admiral Jaled before being transferred to her own command before the last battle. They believe that she would be capable of doing the job.'

Sisko nodded. `I will confer with the Senate,' he said. `And with Commander Serisa herself.'

Picard nodded. There was no need to discuss who should take command of Epsilon. Dukat had already nominated Picard before the battle, should he be killed. Sisko looked around the table. `Is there any other business?'

Picard sat up again, and said, `Yes. There is one other thing. I feel that I am unable to continue in my current role as Praetor of the Romulan Empire. I have conferred with the Senate on this matter, and they agree that it would be an error to allow me to continue as such now that the retreat is over. A Romulan, they and I believe, is needed to lead the Empire. Although they would discuss this matter with you, Mr President, I wish to formally announce my resignation as Praetor.'

Sisko nodded. `I expected it,' he said. `I accept, and will discuss the issue tomorrow with the Senate.' He looked at the others, and stood. They followed his lead. `Well, if that's everything, I believe that we had better get to our ships. We depart soon.'

The entire Fleet was once again assembled in position. Behind them, the wreckage of the Borg Empire and the Aralla invasion force rested in death together. Before them, open space and the unknown Aralla presence in the Alpha Quadrant. There would be more battles to fight along the way, but they would come through.

Picard stared around the bridge of the _Sovereign_. Hedly was at tactical, Thames at Ops, and Captain Gratenlok was sat at the first officer's position. Truper was not yet well enough to be at helm, so the helm officer of the _Sovereign _had control of the mighty ship. Seven of Nine had the counsellor's seat, while Torres was manning the aft engineering console. Picard knew that he had taken the best from each crew and moulded it into a new crew to rival that of the _Enterprise_.

Picard glanced at Gratenlok. `I hope you don't mind my crew displacing yours, Captain.'

Gratenlok, a Bolian, shook his head and smiled. `You're the Admiral, sir. And, as you yourself said, they're the best.'

Picard glanced at Thames, who did not react, but he looked up at Hedly, who had blushed slightly. He smiled. `Notify Admiral Sisko that we are ready for departure.'

`All Battlegroups report ready, Admiral,' said Kira at the helm of the _Defiant_. `We're ready to go.'

Sisko took a quick glance around the bridge. Only Kira survived from his original bridge crew, but he knew every young face that filled those slots. Bashir, on the _Sovereign_, sent his personal greetings to his old friends. Sisko, for the first time since the Aralla invaded, felt at peace with himself again.

He looked at Nerys. `Put me on Fleet-wide.' He stood up and glanced at Kira again, who nodded. He took a deep breath. `This is President Sisko to all ships. Engage warp engines. We're going home.'

The Fleet moved out of orbit, and, in a great flash of light, vanished into warp speed again. Within moments, they initiated their transwarp engines, and propelled themselves along at speeds unthought of at the beginning of the long war.

Nothing stirred any longer around Vegryo VII. Over the next few years, the debris of the final battle would scorch through the sky in a shooting star, but two extinct races were remembered in no other way, except in the death and debris left behind them.


	25. The Celestial Temple

Chapter XXV __

Chapter XXV

****

2377

Space around the planet Bajor still sparkled with debris, bearing mute testimony to the battle for_ Deep Space Nine_, four years before_._ The shattered hulls of Aralla attack planes and Alliance ships rested together in silent death.

A small distance away, a pinpoint of light appeared in the darkness. It swirled outwards, forming a bright spiral of energy which suddenly bloomed into full radiance and opened a portal in space, one which led to the Gamma Quadrant.

For the first time in three years, the Celestial Temple opened it's gates and admitted entrance to the Alpha Quadrant. From within it's swirling light, the Alliance Fleet emerged, weapons ready, shields up.

Grand Admiral Picard smiled brightly as he looked out at stars that he recognised for the first time in three years. But his concern was on the Aralla presence that held Bajor. What had they done in the time that their fleet had been hunting the survivors of the Alpha Quadrant?

As space cleared and the crew could see what lay before them, they gasped in shock.

A huge cloud of debris marked where _Deep Space Nine_ once hovered. No effort had been made to clear away the wreckage that had been left once the Fleet had fled. Turning his attention to Bajor, Picard noted that the planet looked barren, but he could not see any sign of any Aralla presence. Expecting an immediate attack by Aralla forces, they relaxed nervously.

'That's strange,' muttered Thames. Picard came over.

'What, Commander?' Thames looked up at him, her dark eyes confused.

'There is no life on the planet in the ruins of the cities, but the rest of the planet is unaffected by the Aralla. The rural areas are still inhabited.' Picard nodded.

'Lifeforms?'

'All Bajoran. I'm not detecting any Aralla.'

'That _is_ odd.' Picard looked at Hedly. 'Get me Admiral Sisko.'

'Aye, sir.' Hedly hailed the _Defiant_, and looked up at Picard again. 'On screen.'

Picard turned to see Sisko's dark face appear on the screen. He looked equally puzzled by the lack of an Aralla threat. 'I assume you've seen what's on Bajor, Admiral?'

Sisko nodded. 'I have indeed. I wish to take Battlegroup Alpha and explore the planet, Admiral.'

Picard sighed slightly. '_You're_ the President, sir,' he said.

Sisko brightened slightly. 'Oh, yes. We'll split up as we agreed.'

Picard nodded. 'Very well. I'll signal you when we reach Earth.'

'Good luck, Admiral. _Defiant_ out.'

The _Defiant_ banked away from the main Fleet, which sailed on past Bajor. As the starship did so, it was followed by hundreds of different ships, which followed it into orbit.

Picard looked at the screen, and nodded silently at Hedly. Hedly transmitted his order.

The Fleet broke up. Every Battlegroup separated itself from the others, and headed on different courses. Battlegroup Beta, under Martok, left for Qo'nos, while Gamma, under Admiral Serisa, left for Romulus. Kreal and Battlegroup Delta turned for Ferenginar, while Epsilon, under Picard, left for Earth itself. On the way, Epsilon would split up and another group would head for Cardassia.

Rebuilding would begin as soon as the Aralla threat was analysed and neutralised. Although, Picard mused, as Epsilon entered warp speed, there appeared to be no Aralla in the Alpha Quadrant. He refused to let his mind dwell on the possibility however, waiting for evidence.

Instead, he ordered reverse view on the screen. Behind the Battlegroup, he could see the Fleet that he had created, he had formed from nothing, and that he had led through everything, splitting up to go their separate ways. But in that separation, he could see the unity that would forge the new Alliance. The departures were based on Battlegroup, not on race. The leaders decided where their ships would go, and, wonder of wonders, _no-one argued_!

But Picard was now more interested in the future, not the past. 'Forward angle. Engage transwarp.'

The _Sovereign_ and its Battlegroup vanished into transwarp speed.

Admiral Sisko watched them leave from the bridge of the USS _Defiant_. 'Well, we'd better get started on moving the people to the surface. Feel up to it, Kai Nerys?' He looked at his Bajoran former first officer and his lover. She turned and graced him with a smile.

'All right, Emissary.' Sisko smiled back, but a lot of hard work remained.

Migda Greti, a Bajoran farmer, rested his aching hands as he toiled in the ruins of the cities. Ever since the destruction of the planet's cities three years before, he and his friends and helpers had worked to slowly rebuild Bajor. He stared at the blue skies, wondering if the invaders would return. If they did, he and his friends would resist as they had against the Cardassians, but they only had a few weapons. Privately, he dreaded the return of the huge black ships.

A musical chime distracted him from his musings. He looked up to see a blue energy field form about twenty metres away. His colleagues looked up. A figure took shape.

'The invaders have returned!' He grabbed a phaser rifle that they carried about with them. His friends, those who could, did so as well. They all pointed them at the energy beam. Migda noticed his hands shook as his hands readied the weapon.

The beam disappeared, depositing a figure in their midst. It turned and looked at Migda. He gasped in recognition. 'You're human! _Emissary!'_

Ben Sisko smiled. 'And thank the Prophets for that.'

The _Sovereign_ led the Battlegroup into orbit of Earth. As had been expected, a lump formed in Picard's throat as he stared at the blue-green emerald that he had last seen burning in space. The smoke had disappeared from the atmosphere, and he could see those familiar landmasses clearly. At the moment, he was passing above the Asian continent, and in the distance, he could see Europe, and somewhere down there, his own homestead.

Below, on the surface, he knew that it was completely different. Bodies, wreckage – all the horrors of the aftermath of war were waiting for them in the ruins of Earth. But for the moment, it looked like the shining jewel of humanity's triumph as it had done for so long before.

Thames, Hedly and Truper all stared at the screen, transfixed. After a moment, Hedly said, 'It's beautiful, isn't it?'

'It shows that we take for granted what is privileged,' agreed Truper, echoing Picard's own thoughts.

'Signal the Battlegroup. Defence perimeter,' said Picard at last. 'Repair and recovery teams to transporter rooms and beam down. All ships to scan for signs of Aralla infestation.' He looked at the bridge crew. 'We have a lot of hard work to do.'

Picard stood in the midst of a completely burnt out and devastated Starfleet Academy. Despite the clean air, Picard could see for miles around the hundreds of skeletons which were unburied, and unmourned. After five days, the hard work of burying the dead had reached this area of San Francisco. All over the planet, in the destroyed cities, teams of Fleet workers cleared away the rubble, buried the dead, and prepared for the work of rebuilding the planet. There could be no time for identification or mourning. The past had to swept away, to make room for the fast-encroaching future.

Lieutenant Commander Thames materialised nearby. She spotted Picard instantly, and waved, a padd in her hand. 'Admiral!'

Picard walked towards her. 'Yes, commander?' In his head was running the thought that they had to maintain decorum when on duty. It was difficult, however. Thames had no such compunction, however. When she reached him, she embraced him, and then pulled back.

'The _Agamemnon _received a transmission from Battlegroup Alpha. Apparently, they detected a Jem'Hadar fleet headed for earth two days ago, but were unable to warn us because of the damage on our communications relays. They should arrive within the hour.'

Picard stared at Thames. 'Why didn't you call me from the bridge?'

'I wanted to see you,' she said. 'Being down here, among all of this. It's bound to make you depressed.'

Picard smiled, and kissed her. 'With you around, that's unlikely to happen.' He tapped his commbadge. 'Picard to _Sovereign_. Two to beam up.' The glow formed around them, and they vanished from Earth

The turbolift doors slid open, and Captain Gratenlok turned to Picard. 'Admiral, we have a Jem'Hadar warfleet on an ETA with the fleet in two minutes.'

Picard took the centre seat. 'Status of defences?'

Commander Hedly spoke. 'Battlegroup stands ready, sir. It's not a big fleet approaching. Maybe one hundred vessels.'

Picard cast a surprised look at her. 'Commander, at the battle of Wolf 359, forty Starfleet vessels faced a single Borg Cube. _That_ was considered a big battle.'

Hedly shrugged as though it were of no consequence. 'We outnumber them ten to one, sir. They're the numbers which count. And, the Fleet does number more than five thousand ships –'

'Yes, thank you, point taken,' said Picard, in mock-resignation. Hedly grinned as he sat down shaking his head.

'Prepare for the Jem'Hadar to come out of warp firing.'

Thames' voice came back. 'Here they come.' The Jem'Hadar ships appeared in a flash of light. Picard frowned.

'What are they doing?' The ships on the screen were all slowing down and stopping.

'We have an incoming transmission from the lead Jem'Hadar ship,' said Hedly suddenly, her voice surprised. Picard stood, and looked at her in disbelief.

'A transmission?' He turned back to the screen, shrugging mentally. 'Let's see what they want. On screen.'

A Jem'Hadar appeared before him, and bowed to Picard. As he straightened, he said 'I am First Omer'Igal, leader of the Dominion. The Jem'Hadar and other liberated races of the Dominion have come to make peace finally with the Federation.' Picard stared, goggle-eyed, at the screen.

'Well, please come to the_ Sovereign_. I would like to speak with you, Omer'Igal.' The Jem'Hadar nodded. Picard looked at Hedly. 'Lower shields, Commander.'

Cautiously, Hedly did so, and Omer'Igal appeared in a glow of transporter energy next to Picard, who turned to the tall Jem'Hadar.

'Welcome to the _Sovereign, _Omer'Igal.' The Jem'Hadar inclined his head. Picard indicated his ready room.

'If you'll follow me....' He led the Jem'Hadar from the bridge.

Ship's Log: Stardate 58742.4 – I have spoken with Omer'Igal, who has given me detailed tactical data on the Alpha, Beta and Gamma Quadrants after our retreat. It appears that the Aralla came straight for us. They left no ships, no guards, and came after the Fleet. The Aralla gambled everything on being able to destroy us, and to them it looked like a winning bet. However, they lost, and we won. They may have devastated the entire fabric of our society, but we prevailed. I only hope that we can do the right things now.

Ship's Log: Supplemental – Omer'Igal has enlightened me as to what has happened in the areas we abandoned in the last few years. Apparently, the Jem'Hadar, shortly after their attack on us at the Wadi planet led a revolt against the Founders and the Vorta. Both races are now extinct, Omer'Igal claims, and, knowing the Jem'Hadar, I have no reason to doubt his word. The Aralla invasion has wrought great change in the galaxy since they invaded the Neutral Zone all of those years ago, not least in the Dominion itself. The liberated races, ruled by those who freed them, have urged the Jem'Hadar to join our Alliance. Omer'Igal agreed to their urgings, and, assisted by his assistant, Ramel'Eglek, is even now hammering out an agreement with President Sisko. It appears that I have started something which may become bigger than even I had considered. I had desired a union between the sovereign races of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, but our combined power now controls more than half the galaxy. With the destruction of so many planets and races during the Aralla advance on us during the war, even the Delta Quadrant governments are clamouring to join our banner. Every time I see him now, Ben looks more and more tired, but more and more happy. I think I made the right choice.

The Alliance worked. Slowly but surely, the planets ravaged by the Aralla onslaught returned to their prosperous state. Subspace communication and trade was re-established soon after the return of the Fleet, and within a year, most of the major cities around the galaxy were rebuilt, if not fully complete. That work would continue, apace, for the rest of time.

The political Alliance prospered. Each former nation readily gave its assent to the creation of a new government led by President Sisko, with the initial Cabinet formed by the former Battlegroup commanders. Chancellor Martok, Admiral Serisa, Grand Admiral Picard, Nagus Kreal and Kai Nerys all guided the new Galactic Federation through its birth and it's first few years until it was on an even keel. Shortly thereafter, Picard retired from Starfleet and settled on Earth.

The Battlegroups themselves remained, although expanded and refined from the hastily thrown together warfleets to a new, improved Starfleet. New ships, produced from the shipyards at Utopia Planitia, Monac IV, Cardassia, Remus and all across the galaxy, were incorporated into this new Starfleet, crewed by officers who went through the age-old process of Academy to starship command. For the first time, Starfleet Academy was awash with Romulan, Klingon, human, Cardassian, Ferengi and even Jem'Hadar faces, plus the old mixture of familiar races that had once dominated the halls of the galaxy's finest college of learning.

One of the first ships to be commissioned in the new Starfleet, eight years after the return of the Fleet, was the USS _Enterprise_, NCC 1701-F, another _Sovereign_-class starship. And the one who took command of that ship was Captain Rosanna Thames.

A special plaque was given for the crew of the new Starship _Enterprise_ to be put on the _Enterprise_ bridge so that the names of Jean-Luc Picard, William T. Riker, Data, Geordi La Forge, Worf, Beverly Crusher and Deanna Troi were never forgotten. And, crewing this new ship were Ghia Hedly-Truper as first officer, her husband, Lieutenant Commander Truper at helm as always, but also second officer, and Commander B'Elanna Torres as Chief Engineer. Plus, Seven of Nine was Ship's Counsellor, and Naomi Wildman had been assigned as an Ensign to the new ship. The _Enterprise's_ saga was not over. 

A memorial was set up on the grounds of the new Starfleet Headquarters in the rebuilt city of San Francisco, commemorating the brave officers and crews of the ships that were killed or destroyed in the Aralla War. Similar in style to old Second World War memorials, it listed the name of all those who fought and died in the Aralla War, specifying which ship they served aboard and also which defence force it was part of. 

Another memorial was erected next to the statue of Zefram Cochrane in Montana. A stone carving of the crew of the _Enterprise-E_ who died in the war, it read, "They went where no one had gone before."

The Aralla War, as it became known, had formed a Fleet that had given birth to an Alliance which had in turn produced a new civilisation. Free to explore the galaxy at last, outposts of the Galactic Federation would be found across space for hundred of thousands of years.

And, two billion years after the Aralla war ended, and all those who had fought in it long dead, a petition to join the Universal Alliance which had observed the unification of the Milky Way with interest, was received. And accepted.

And the original seed for all of this was one crew and one ship. Once again, a crew of the USS _Enterprise_ had made history.


	26. Endings

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Chapter XXVI

'Very good work, Mr. Ferrier.' The human manager of the power plant smiled at the accolade from the Kai of Bajor.

As part of her official duties, Kai Nerys was visiting a large power plant newly built on one of the rivers on Bajor. It had been nine years since the end of the war, and Bajor had been steadily rebuilding with help from all of the allied races. This power plant was the first part of Bajor's new independence.

Her husband was on Earth, but she would be visiting him in a few days. Ben Sisko had been very busy with presidential duties, putting the finishing touches to the treaty between the Federation and the Vidiian Sodality, or at least, what was left of it. The treaty would allow the Delta Quadrant race to join the Galactic Federation. It would herald a new era in galactic politics, as the Vidiians were the first Delta Quadrant government to join the new Federation.

'Thank you, Kai.' The young man's voice brought Kira back to the present. She examined Harry Ferrier. The youthful official was part of the generation that had been very young at the time of the war. 'It means a lot.' Kira nodded.

'Shall we get it up and running, then?' The man nodded, and started yelling orders. This brought a smile to Kira's face as she remembered the multitudinous times she had given similar orders to personnel long ago on _Deep Space Nine_.

Sparks began to fly suddenly, and Ferrier rushed up a metal flight of stairs and shouted something indecipherable to a Bajoran worker. He yelled back, but then a crack resounded through the chamber, and a massive flash illuminated the room, blinding everybody and drowning out the young man. Kira looked at her technical advisor. 'What's going on?' He shook his head.

'I don't know, Kai - Kai!' A huge arc of electricity flashed across the room, connecting with Kira, and as everything went white, Kira Nerys' world went black.

Benjamin Sisko, first President of the Galactic Federation, hero of the Aralla War, Emissary of the Bajoran people, smiled as he put his light pen to the treaty. He looked up at the figure of the Vidiian leader. 'You are now formally members of the Galactic Federation.' As he shook hands with the representative, and as applause broke out around the great hall, an aide rushed to Sisko's side, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, and after congratulating the Vidiian once again, he excused himself, and left the hall for his small office.

When he saw who was on screen, he smiled. 'Captain Thames, what can I do for you?' Captain Thames gazed at him, full of sympathy and unsure of how to tell him her news.

'Mr. President,' she began hesitantly, 'we're orbiting Bajor on the _Enterprise_. I regret to have to inform you, that your wife, Kai Nerys, is dead.' For a moment, time seemed to stop, and then Sisko fell back into his chair, stunned.

'H - how?' he whispered, his voice tortured.

'She was caught in an industrial accident on a visit to a power plant. Her body is resting in state on Bajor.' Sisko nodded, trying to keep a rising tide of emotions from overwhelming him.

'I'll be there as soon as possible.' He switched off the screen before Thames could see his collapse. He slumped back in his chair, and let his emotions take their toll in a wave of crushing despair and sorrow.

Twenty years after the death of Nerys, Sisko was sat, alone, in a space station orbiting Bajor in the same co-ordinates as _Deep Space Nine_ had once done. Built to Sisko's own specifications, it occupied a place in the legends of the Bajoran people. Having already experienced one nervous breakdown, Sisko was now a recluse from all.

Sisko had already transmitted his resignation as President to Earth a few hours before, including his declaration of his intentions, and they would be received in the next few minutes. Immediately, Starfleet would despatch a message, begging him not to do what he was about to do, but the former captain of _Deep Space Nine_ had already made his mind up. He had also transmitted his thanks and blessing to the Kai of Bajor, Kai Fromar.

Sisko shut down all of the systems in the station, except for the launch mechanism. He stood, slowly and painfully, for age and illness had taken their toll on his body, and hobbled to the airlock. He moved into it, and sealed the hatch for the last time. He moved into the docking bay, sealed off for atmosphere release during launch.

The USS _Rio Grande_ sat before him, still battle-scarred from the Aralla war. Sisko smiled. The only runabout to survive his troubled captaincy of _Deep Space Nine_ would carry his body back to Earth for his burial. The course and speed were already laid in. He would have his last sight of Earth as he died.

A poor symbol, but it was the only one he had left. He smiled vaguely, imagining for a second that he heard Kira and Dax's voice, telling him that he was being foolish.

He shook his head, and climbed into the runabout.

The _Rio Grande_ launched quietly from the launch pad and accelerated from the space station. Behind him, the station flashed into fire and debris. It would provoke wonder from the Bajoran people, who were about now being told about the death of the Emissary. Sisko felt oddly proud of the way in which he had told the Bajoran people of his impending death.

He locked the _Rio Grande_ on course and sent it into warp speed. As he did so, he picked up an incoming message. 'Earth to _Rio Grande_! Come in!'

Sisko was about to shut off the message when he suddenly recognised the voice. 'This is the _Rio Grande_. Admiral,' he acknowledged.

Jean-Luc Picard's aged but still intimidating face glared back at him. 'What the hell do you think you're playing at, Ben?'

'Something I should have done years ago.'

'I just got a message from a very upset Kai Fromar, and a strange message of resignation coming from you personally. I hope you've got a good reason.'

Sisko smiled painfully and without humour. 'At the battle over the Borg Homeworld, I lost my best friend. At Bajor, I lost my command. Twenty years ago, I lost my wife and the same thing happened seventeen years before that, I lost Jennifer at Wolf 359. I have been widowed twice, Admiral, and I am tired of life! Somewhere in all of that, I lost my soul as well!

'You are the only one who came through that war with anything! I lost everything in the Aralla conflict and I do not wish to continue in that sort of empty life any longer!'

'I understand your feelings, Ben, but you have a duty –'

'I have no duty!' he thundered, a trace of his old force returning. 'I am not Captain Benjamin Sisko and I am not President Benjamin Sisko! I am...' He slowed, and shook his head sadly. 'I don't know what I am anymore.' He glared at Picard again, the fire coming through again. 'Except that I am a tired and weary old man, only wanting to rest.'

Picard nodded slowly, regretfully. 'I do understand. If this is your decision....' Picard smiled sadly. 'I am sorry to lose such a good friend, that's all. Farewell.' The screen blanked out for the last time.

Sisko glanced once at the readouts, and slumped his head back onto the headrest. He had done enough. It was time for rest.

He closed his eyes.

Saw a –

A few years later, Jean-Luc Picard looked around his San Francisco office one last time as he deposited the last of his belongings in a case and lifted it onto the small transporter pad that was in the corner of his office. Walking back to his desk, he tapped the communicator switch and said, 'Energise.'

The case was enveloped by the blue glow of the transporter and vanished in a haze of blue sparks. Picard sat in the chair that faced the Bay and relaxed for a moment. After all that he had done and achieved, it was now time to retire forever. Admittedly, he had retired from his official post in the Federation, but he had accepted a teaching post at the Academy, and was still consulted by the new President, Serisa, for advice. He grinned for a moment, remembering the day that she had been appointed to command of her Battlegroup. She had nearly fainted with shock. And now she was President. Martok had died only two days after Sisko, and that had left the door open for her. And, Picard knew, she was making a good job of it.

After all of the future becoming the past, Picard realised, he had little left. And there were no more questions to answer. No more places to explore. Nor did he wish to do so.

All questions had been answered in his life, except one. Q. Q had said, so long before, that he would see Picard one last time. That might be interesting.

The communicator bleeped. Picard tried to ignore it, but it bleeped again insistently. Picard sighed in annoyance and tapped hid commbadge. 'Picard here. What the hell do you want?'

'Admiral, we're ready to transport you.'

'Okay.' Picard levered himself out of his chair and walked over to the transporter.

Standing on the pad, he glanced one last time around the room, and he tapped the badge again. 'Energise.'

The blue beam deposited him in a dark room, and he peered into the gloom. 'Where am I?'

Suddenly, bright lights flashed on, and a shout roared out. '_Surprise!_'

'What the –'

As Picard's eyes adjusted to the change in the lighting, he finally made out the large group of figures that surrounded the transporter. He identified faces, including – 'Rosanna!' he shouted joyfully.

Rosanna Thames-Picard rushed to him and they embraced. His wife kissed him, and Picard said, 'When did you get back?'

'I took a fast shuttle from the _Enterprise_ back here. They're in the Elleris Sector, running scans, and I decided they wouldn't miss me for a few days.'

'Why are you here?' Thames looked at him in mock indignation.

'It's the day of your retirement, and you're asking why we're here? We're celebrating, and I am determined that you have a good time. Come on.' She gently persuaded him from the transporter pad, and steered him towards the rest of the group.

There were a surprisingly large number of people there, and Picard recognised Admiral Truper, Dr. Bashir, and Legate Garak among the sea of happy faces. 'You're all here to make sure I retire?' he asked dryly.

`Somebody needs to, Admiral,' said a familiar voice, and Picard turned and smiled as he saw Seven of Nine and B'Elanna Torres making their way towards him.

`Seven of Nine!' The ex-drone shook her head, making the long blonde curls shake.

`Not anymore, Admiral. Annika. Annika Hansen. My old name.'

Picard smiled at her resumption of full humanity at last, and knew that Captain Janeway would have been proud. And also pleased that he had fulfilled the debt that he owed the long-dead Captain of _Voyager_.

Several hours later, Picard finally stole away from his guests and walked outside to the balcony that overlooked the small town he had chosen for a retirement spot.

Darkened by night, the little town nevertheless glowed with the light of houses full of activity; a sight Picard had once only dreamed about at night in the darkest depths of the Aralla War.

He smiled and shook his head. His dream of a rebuilt Earth and, indeed, the galaxy, was fulfilled.

As he stared out into the darkness, however, he began to see images from his life flashing by. Faces of those he had known and who had died during the war. The events that he had participated in. He shook his head and covered his eyes.

To his amazement, he found that his hands were wet with tears.


	27. Epilogue: Beginnings

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Epilogue

(Forty years after the battle over the Borg homeworld...)

Grand Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, former commander-in-chief of Starfleet, sat in his home overlooking Paris, when a knock came on the door. 'Come in.' His voice, although old and creaking, had lost none of its power and force. The door opened. It was a young Cardassian Starfleet captain.

Unusually, Picard noted, she still wore the old grey and black uniform of Starfleet. After the war, Sisko and Picard had issued a Fleet-wide decree. The uniforms of Starfleet had been changed many times before and since, but anyone who wished to wear that war uniform to commemorate friends or anyone lost in the Aralla War would be allowed to do so. Obviously, she was commemorating someone; but she looked far too young to have fought in the war. Privately, Picard was pleased; few people kept that old custom, which was unsurprising, given the length of time since the final battle.

'Admiral Picard.' The tones of hushed reverence in the captain's voice made Picard grin slightly. The captain had good reason to speak reverentially, for the hero of the Aralla War had a reputation for not seeing many visitors. The captain was lucky to have got this far, and she knew it. 'I am a student of history at Starfleet Archaeology.' Picard knew the Archaeology department well, having set it up himself, for the advancement of the knowledge that the galaxy had been showing them, and he had created an entire section of Starfleet devoted to this pursuit. ' I have been compiling a record of the Aralla War, based on your ship logs, for an... interest. Unfortunately, there is no information relating to the aftermath.' When Picard started to correct him, the Cardassian corrected herself. 'I mean aftermath in the sense of the personal, and not the official history.'

Picard grinned lopsidedly. 'And you thought that you might be able to pry the information from me, right?'

The captain smiled, and nodded. 'Yes, sir. I've tried to get in contact with President Serisa and Admiral Truper, but their aides have referred me to you.'

Picard nodded and motioned to one of the seats. The captain sat. Picard looked at the young lady, thinking for a moment that he would have never seen a captain from Cardassia if it hadn't been for the Aralla.

Picard leaned back and thought. After the War had ended and the Fleet had returned to the Alpha Quadrant, it became clear just how far the devastation of the war had spread, even on planets that had suffered little damage due to the lack of cities vulnerable to Aralla attack, such as Bajor. Famine threatened even in the developed areas and the Fleet commanders abruptly realised the enormity of the task that lay before them. It was obvious to all but the extremely narrow-minded that the only way to survive was through mutual co-operation.

Through the resources of the Fleet and also through the administrative experience of the Federation races who had been used to this everyday bartering, such as the Ferengi, the Alpha Quadrant had, slowly and painfully at first, begun to restore its former power. It was fortunate that it had no real opponents left such as the Borg or the Dominion, and this was just one of the mixed blessings that the Aralla War had left in its destructive wake.

The influence of the Alpha Quadrant quickly spread out through the galaxy, and eventually became the Galactic Federation. The liberated Dominion races quickly rushed to join the new Federation, aware of the potential for progress and survival in a galaxy were there were no more struggles. The wormhole from Bajor now became a huge highway for traffic to the liberated Gamma Quadrant as it had been meant to be.

Starfleet was soon rebuilt, and quickly re-established itself as the major training centre for the elite among the galaxy's races. The battle-scarred ships that had fought in the war remained in service, but there was no real enemy except the occasional Hirogen or Jem'Hadar pirate. Using the Alliance Fleet as its template, the new starships that were produced were a combination of the technology of the various races that had fought in the War, and became another symbol of the new spirit that infused the galaxy. Picard saw the entire world grow up in stature once again. He knew what role he had played in it and he was proud of that.

He did not want all the publicity that came with it, but accepted it as a necessary evil. He told the captain about his friendship and clashes with President Benjamin Sisko and also brought up painful memories of the comrades from the _Enterprise_. Riker, Crusher, Troi, Data, La Forge, Worf, O'Brien, and others he had known and lost before and during the war. 'In a way,' he concluded, 'we have a lot to thank the Aralla for.'

He glanced across at the Cardassian, who was taking copious amounts of notes. 'Tell me, Captain, which ship have you been assigned to?' The captain looked up.

'The new _Enterprise-G_, sir. They will be carrying out the first experiments in Ultra-warp drive. It's to be commissioned as soon as the _Enterprise-F_ returns from its final mission.' Picard nodded. Thames would be retiring from Starfleet to pursue a career in diplomatic work as soon as the _Enterprise-F_ got back to Earth in three days. It would be the first time they had seen each other for several weeks.

'I'll see you get a good mission, Captain....' The captain stood and smiled faintly.

'Captain Ziyal, sir.'

Picard nodded, and as the young woman turned away, he said, 'Captain, if I may – who are you commemorating from the war? I notice that you wear the old uniform like myself.'

Ziyal nodded. 'My father, sir. You knew him.'

'I don't remember anyone called Ziyal,' murmured Picard, searching his memory.

Ziyal smiled. 'No, sorry, sir. He wasn't called Ziyal. Gul Dukat. I'm his daughter. He asked me to stay and hide on Bajor while he went to the Gamma Quadrant. When President Sisko and Kai Nerys told me what he had done for the Alliance, and how he died saving his fellow officers, I decided to join Starfleet to commemorate his memory.'

Tora Ziyal paused, clearly torn. 'I'm sorry, Admiral, but I have to leave for Spacedock. Thank you... for everything.' They shook hands, and the captain left the room quietly, leaving the Admiral in contemplative silence.

Picard sat back in his chair, thoughtfully. He looked towards the old Bay of San Francisco. The war had changed Picard in ways he would never have imagined. His life had become widely regarded as one of the legends of the modern era. However, he reflected, the historians had always missed the obvious, and he still had to hear of one that had noticed the change in his personality after the last battle and his relinquishing of the leadership of the Alliance.

His world had changed and he had begun to grow away from it.

Of course, he loved Thames, and his marriage, but recently he had felt himself yearning for the days aboard the _Enterprise_, before the war. He remembered his reading of the old logs from the first _Enterprise_, back when he had taken command of the _Enterprise-D_. James Kirk had spoken of his regret at losing the original _Enterprise_ at the end of his first five-year mission. The medical logs by Admiral McCoy had demonstrated an unyielding desire for command of a starship in Kirk's character. Picard believed that to be the same of himself. He knew that a wish for starship command was pointless at the age of a hundred and eight, especially in his position, but one could dream.

He had nothing to do anymore.

'Oh, the brave war hero, old and waiting for death. How melodram_a_tic.' Picard whirled, jolted from his reverie.

'Q!' The omnipotent being was stood in the corner, smiling slightly. He was still wearing the uniform from forty years in the past. At first glance he looked no older than when Picard had last seen him. When Picard narrowed his eyes, it seemed he was able to detect signs of age in Q's demeanour. 'Are you older?'

Silently Q cursed the other's perceptiveness, but remained calm on the outside. His waning powers had been unable to disguise the signs of approaching age. 'Just trying to make you feel at home.'

Picard snorted derisively. 'Thank you. Where have you been?' Q shrugged, unwilling to tell the real truth.

'In the Continuum, watching the war.' Q struggled to recall how he had thought of it at the time. 'It was rather amusing at times, to tell you the truth.' Picard stared at Q, his expression becoming that of astonished fury.

'_Amusing_! Eighty billion people died in that war on our side alone! Who knows how many were killed by the Aralla on the other planets we didn't see, and who knows how many Aralla we killed when we destroyed their fleet over the Borg homeworld?' Q nodded once, a knowing look on his face.

'I know the answer to that question.' Q paused, and then sighed. 'In fact, I know the answers to all questions, and that is why omnipotence is so boring, sometimes.' Again Q smiled that slightly mocking smile. 'However, there is a more important question for _you_ to answer.'

Picard stood slowly, awkwardly. 'What do you mean?'

Q stepped closer to him and said quietly, 'You have no idea about what really happened to you over the last forty years, do you?' He turned and flung his arms up to illustrate his point. 'When we first met at Farpoint Station, I said that we, the Q Continuum, would continue to watch you. Seven years after that, I led you to believe that what we called the trial of humanity was over.' Q shook his head. 'I am afraid that the Continuum did not consider it such a closed issue as I. They decided that an ultimate test was needed to prove your maturity.'

'How did they make this test?' demanded Picard.

Q pursed his lips for a moment, thinking about how to put it so that Picard understood. For all his ability, Q remembered, he was still only human. 'It is difficult to phrase so that you understand. The Aralla were a race from another dimension, as I said earlier. However, their fleet on the other side of the rift was destroyed completely in that other dimension. We preserved the a few specimens of the race for ourselves, for future study.' Q sighed. 'This primitive language of yours is so clumsy. This is an oversimplified version, you understand.'

'Get on with it, Q,' said Picard, threateningly.

'Well the issue of humanity's trial came up, and once it was decided to give you this test, some _bright spark _-' He glared at the ceiling for a moment. 'Some bright spark decided the Aralla would be a good test. The Continuum agreed.'

'How could they test us? And what about the Klingons or the Romulans? What about all the other races that were involved?'

Q frowned. 'Other races? Oh, you mean the others in the Alliance.' Picard nodded impatiently. 'The same goes for them too.'

'How do you mean?' asked Picard, confused, and then suddenly comprehended Q's meaning as the last fifty years all came together. In wonder, he said, 'All that time, I thought you were prejudiced and superficial, but all this time you were completely right. You view all races as the same.'

Q nodded, clearly pleased. 'Because you are the same. All that rubbish about beliefs and codes is all just so much cover for the fact that you grew up on different planets. Underneath it all, you have the same DNA codes and gene structures as each other. You yourself have discovered that.'

'The Preservers?' asked Picard.

'Exactly, _mon capitaine_!'

'You're not going to tell me that the Q are the Preservers? The universe isn't that perverse.'

'Oh, no! We're far older than the Preservers. But that's for another time, Jean-Luc. For now, all that you have to know is that all of what we term humanity has passed this test. That means that you are taking the first tentative steps to succeeding the Q Continuum.'

'Succeeding the Q? What do you mean?' Picard was by now completely confused. Q had made a decision to disclose information about the Q that Picard had never been privy to before.

Q sighed again. 'Great changes have begun in the Q Continuum since we first met, Jean-Luc. Of those matters, again, you have no need to know about them. However, it has become clear to us that we have to move on. Thus, we are now preparing the Continuum for when it becomes necessary to leave it. The trial of humanity was one of the first motivators for the Q to wish to move on.'

Q glanced at Picard quickly. 'One of our requirements for a civilised race is for them to respond to a threat by doing what is necessary to survive. What has happened in the past is that the ones being tested have descended into savagery and destroyed each other while their civilisation has crumbled around them. Even those who were at a higher state of evolution and technological development than you are now. Fortunately, you survived by being ruthless and cold in the right places at the right times. Even at the cost of those you loved.'

'Are you telling me that we have to be destructive to be like you?' Picard snorted. 'Doesn't sound like much of a trade-off to me.'

'That's not it at all,' said Q. 'What I mean is too complicated for you to understand. Using your language, I cannot explain it at all. All I can say is that in humanity's path lie greater dangers than the Aralla.'

'Well, we'll be ready to confront them.'

'That's an interesting statement,' said Q quietly. Picard whirled to face him.

'What do you mean?'

'In this universe, it is possible that you are able to confront these dangers. In the alternate universe –' Here Q turned away from Picard, a small smile on his face ' - it may be slightly different.'

'What other universe?' said Picard slowly and quietly.

'The original timeline that you were on until I caused the dimensional rift.'

Picard was shocked into silence for a moment, and then he grated out the word, '_You_?'

'Acting on the instructions of the Continuum,' said Q hurriedly.

'Why?'

'I've just explained that to you!'

'You know what I mean, Q. What was all that rubbish about alternate Q and a battle between you and them?'

'Well, I had to come up with something. I'm surprised that you believed it, actually. I've already demonstrated to you that there is only one Q Continuum.'

'But several realities,' mused Picard thoughtfully. He glanced at Q. 'I suppose that my current situation is reversible?' His voice held no pleading tone, however; not that Q had truly anticipated one.

'Finally, we get to the point,' exclaimed Q, throwing his arms in the air in mock relief. 'That is the question that lies before you, Jean-Luc. Do you want this existence, or do you want to be back on the _Enterprise_, exploring the "final frontier"?'

Picard paused. 'Is that a question I am allowed to answer?' Q put his hand over his eyes in exasperation.

'This is not the time for your conscience to take hold, Jean-Luc!' As Picard opened his mouth to protest, Q continued, angrily. 'You are, much as it pains me to say it, the only one anywhere in existence who could ever have made this decision. By your decision, you will determine the fate of two universes. You can only exist in one universe at anytime.' Suddenly realising what he had said, Q clamped his mouth shut as if to keep the escapee sentence in.

'What?' said Picard, surprised by Q's vehemence. 'What do you mean by that?'

'Don't make me tell you, Jean-Luc,' said Q, quietly, his voice pained.

'The time for secrets is long past. I haven't long to live if I stay here.'

'Can I guarantee that you will survive any longer if you go back?'

'That's not important right now. All I want is an explanation.'

Q laughed bitterly, once. 'I suppose that it could not hurt, given the circumstances. Did you ever wonder why, after all the years that humanity had been exploring space, that the Q only decided to act when we did?'

'I always assumed that it was because you had tried to give us time to "improve", as you would say,' Picard replied.

'Not at all,' said Q. 'We had wanted to do something about humanity for more than a thousand of your years, but were restricted by something that we realised would happen very rarely in the universe's life, and would happen only once in your history. The reason that the Q contacted you at that particular time was because we knew that only you at that time could comprehend on our level, and that we would be able to give you the opportunity to prove us wrong.' Q sat in the chair that Picard had vacated and smiled up at the old man. 'Every so often in any civilisation's history, as I am sure you are aware, an event occurs, called a – a _focal point_, that's it.' Picard nodded. 'People doing certain things at certain times often are what cause these focal points. However, sometimes a focal point is actually the person who precipitates an event. Do you understand?'

Picard nodded again. 'I think so, Q. But clarify your point. I'm not quite sure what you're driving at.'

'I would have thought it pretty obvious by now.'

'I'm a turning point in history is what I believe you mean,' answered Picard with equanimity.

Q nodded once. 'But that's not all. There is a phenomenon in the universe that is exceptionally rare, unique, perhaps. Certainly, I have never encountered its like before in my vast experience. It is the turning point that determines the fate of everything.' Picard paled, shocked by the enormity.

'You're joking!'

'Deadly serious, Jean-Luc. You hold in your hands the crux of space and time. By the decisions you make, at crucial times, you determine the fate of more people, planets, star systems, galaxies and universes than you can imagine.'

'How can that be?' asked Picard. His face was ashen and his voice was faint. Q thought he was going to have a heart attack. He stood, and let the elderly man sit. 'All the decisions we make have an impact, or so I believed.'

'That is true, but you occupy a special position. There is only one of you. In all other universes, you were never born.'

'I thought there were alternate copies of us in every universe. Our encounters with the mirror universe have proven that,' said Picard, his voice shaky.

'I can personally guarantee that you are the one and only Jean-Luc Picard in the whole of existence. In that, you are practically Q.'

Picard shook his head, and smiled slightly, ruefully. 'This is very difficult to understand, Q. How does it matter that I am the only one of me in all the universes? How can it possibly matter in so many different possibilities?'

'You know that the universes intersect with each other occasionally. At these times, a decision has to be made which will determine the direction each intersection will travel. You can comprehend alternate universes and make decisions that will change each one, because you _know_, somehow, that you are the only one who will ever make those decisions.' Q smiled at Picard's look of incomprehension. 'You see how difficult it is to explain.'

'It is not making sense at all, Q.'

Q went and stood before the window. 'Let me put it another way. In the context of the multiverse, which is what we call the myriad possibilities that exist in time and space, there is no such thing as a decision. Oh, yes, you say that life is full of choices, but whatever happens in one universe, the alternative happens in another which is created at that very moment, and exists independently of the parent universe.

'This is because there are infinite alternatives of almost everyone in the universe, except for the Q and, of course, you. This means that you are capable of making what can only be described as the _real_ decisions. Your decision cannot be duplicated by anyone, and there can be no alternate decisions because there is no other Jean-Luc Picard. Thus, with every action you take, you determine the fate of time and space itself.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'I see what you mean, though. The time you threatened us with extinction with anti-time. I was able to traverse several timelines and realities and make important decisions in each one that determined the fate of all three timelines, and eventually eradicated all of them.'

'Exactly right. Your subconscious brain _knew_ that you were in a different existence even though your body and conscious mind did not. Because you could make real decisions, this meant that you were able to determine the course of history.'

'How about the people who have gone between universes? Can't they make those decisions as easily?'

'No, for they are always thrown off-balance by the change. They are confused and can only think of returning to their own universe. You, on the other hand, never think about getting home. You change the situation and history in every reality you encounter because you _know_ that you are the only one who can.'

Picard nodded. 'And this particular reality we're in is the only one in which these events have happened.'

'Yes, because you have made the crucial difference.'

'How is that possible?'

'You are the only Jean-Luc Picard in the universe, as I've already said. As soon as you encountered the dimensional rift, you diverted from the original timeline along with the rest of the _Enterprise's_ crew's alternates.'

Picard scarcely could believe what Q was telling him. 'You mean that somewhere there is an _Enterprise_ crew that survived the war?'

'Apart from the fact that the war never occurred, yes.' Q grinned mischievously. 'In fact, you become one of their greatest mysteries. When your timelines diverged, you suddenly vanished from the _Enterprise's _bridge and after the crew spent many days looking for you with every conceivable instrument at their disposal, you were pronounced officially missing and Riker took command of your ship.'

'How did they fare?' asked Picard anxiously, inordinately excited by prospect of the old friends that he had thought irrevocably lost long ago.

But Q shook his head. 'That is not for even you to know, Jean-Luc Picard. Not until you make your decision. And, as I've hopefully explained, you are the only one able to make that decision.'

'Ah, yes. Whether this universe survives or if I wish to destroy it to go back to how it all was before.'

Q sighed. Despite the massive burden he had saddled Picard with, the Grand Admiral still insisted on seeing it in terms of narrow-minded human parameters. 'Not quite. If you do go back to your original timeline, this universe will continue on. You will simply have vanished from it, in the same way that I explained you had from your original timeline.'

'What about the people I leave behind?' In that question was a concern about Rosanna. Both in this universe, and in the past (or possibly the future), when she was a young woman just starting her Starfleet career. All he knew was that he felt privileged to have had her for the last fifty years. He would worry about it again in the future (past?).

Q nodded, for once understanding his concerns. The younger Q that Picard had met once would never have understood. 'They will mourn you at first, especially your wife, but will eventually get on with their lives.'

Picard got up, feeling young again, and excited at the chance of a new start. 'And I suppose that it is too much to ask to go back to before all of this happened?'

Q smiled and held up his hand. 'Infinite command of time and space, remember?'

He swept up his hand and –

He saw a huge white flash envelop everything. Benjamin Sisko blinked. He was sat in his office aboard _Deep Space Nine_, watching the ships come and go. Kira was speaking to him. He turned to look at her. 'Kira, did you notice anything strange?' The Major shook her head, puzzled. Sisko frowned.

'That's very odd.' He could remember, just before the flash had overwhelmed everything, that he was sat aboard the _Rio Grande_, and just coming out of warp in Earth orbit. Suddenly the memory faded. Sisko shrugged, looking puzzled. He then looked up at Kira, who was looking at him worriedly and he had a horrid flash of recollection. He banished it hurriedly, not wanting to embarrass Kira. Or himself.

Sisko shook his head.

'This is very strange. Oh well....' He shrugged. 'Carry on, Kai – _Major_.'

If his skin were not so dark, Sisko's blush would have carried right across the station. Unperturbed, Kira left the office, and descended to Ops.

As she passed Miles O'Brien, she paused, and remarked, 'I think Sisko's going mad.'

A moment later, a motion at the top of Ops caught the eye of everybody in the room. They all looked up to see Sisko, stood at the top of the stairs, grinning inanely at them. Jadzia Dax stood back from her station and said, 'Is there something wrong, Captain?'

He turned his dazzling smile on her and shook his head. 'No, Commander. Everything's just perfect.' He turned and re-entered his office.

Worf shook his head. 'Major Kira is right.'

Sisko sat in his chair, staring out at the ships hovering around _Deep Space Nine's _reptilian shape, relishing the simple pleasure that he had missed for so long.

The one clear memory that remained was of his relationship with Kira. As he watched the traffic passing him by, he immediately decided not to pursue the relationship, realising that adversity, loss and old friendship had driven them together; not especially sexual attraction or infatuation, but certainly the most important aspect of any relationship - love.

He smiled, and, inexplicably, began laughing.

Captain's Personal Log: Supplemental - A short while ago, I acquired some very strange memories regarding the crew of _Deep Space Nine, _and relating to the entire Alpha Quadrant. Although these memories have faded quickly, I still have the impression that something wonderful has happened recently. I have chosen not to speak about these experiences to any other than my personal log, but I have recorded these memories in this log, and I will release them if I see fit to do so.

The white flash enveloped everything that Picard could see, and, a moment later, he was stood on the bridge of the USS _Enterprise NCC_ _1701-E_, next to Commander William Riker, behind Commander Data, in front of Lieutenant Ghia Hedly, and beside Deanna Troi. Thames was at helm. Picard frowned. That was different, he thought. He looked at the screen, showing stars streaking past.

He reached to his collar, feeling the four pips of captaincy, bare of the bars of the admiralty he had carried for so long.

He looked about the bridge taking in the sights and sounds with amazement. Then, he staggered slightly, the sensory overload being too much. Riker stood quickly, as if to support him, and, seeing that he was all right, said instead, 'Is everything all right, Captain?' Riker sounded worried. Picard never thought he would hear his Number One's voice again.

Picard looked at him and only just covered up a huge smile of joy. He controlled an urge to tell him everything that had happened. 'I think so,' he paused, savouring the words he had not said for forty-two years, 'Number One.' Turning to Data, leaving Riker's puzzled frown behind, he said, 'Captain, -' He shook his head,' I mean Commander Data, what is our course?' Data looked at him puzzledly.

'Course 410 mark 15, towards the dimensional rift I mentioned, Captain.' Picard felt all of his happiness be replaced by a feeling of cold dread. Not again, he thought.

'Check your scanners, Commander. Do they still show the rift?'

Data examined the scanners, and then said, in a surprised tone, 'Captain, the rift is no longer there. The scanners have no records of its appearance. It appears that I made an error.' Picard sat down in his seat heavily, mentally saying thank-you to Q.

'Take us back on our original course, Ca - _Lieutenant_ Thames.' Picard winced, but his former wife nodded, and complied with the order. Picard then turned to face Hedly, and said, 'Lieutenant, have we had any contact with the Romulans?'

Hedly shook her head emphatically. 'No, sir! If we had, I'd –' Picard held up a hand, realising that Hedly thought Picard was questioning her security. It was a long time since that particular reaction had come from her.

'I apologise, Lieutenant. I wasn't questioning your security. Have we contacted the Romulans about entering the Neutral Zone?'

'Yes, sir. Proconsul Naré contacted us to give us permission to enter the Zone.'

Picard nodded. 'Contact Romulus. Tell them we made an error and that we apologise. Advise them that we are leaving the Neutral Zone.' Picard turned to Riker. 'Number One, where is Ensign Bridges?' Riker turned to him, a frown on his face.

'Didn't you hear Lieutenant Commander Quinn? He called her away to an investigation team, a few minutes before Data made his mistake.' Picard frowned.

'There's no such person.' Riker's eyes widened.

'What?'

'There's no such person as Lieutenant Commander Quinn on the _Enterprise_. Did he sound familiar?' Riker nodded slowly. He spoke to the air, with a trace of annoyance.

'Commander Riker to Ensign Bridges.' The voice of the young ensign came back.

'Bridges here.'

'Where are you, Ensign?'

'In science lab five, with Lieutenant Commander Quinn, Commander.' She sounded puzzled at the strange question. Suddenly, Q's voice came over the intercom.

'Our little secret, Jean-Luc. Oh, and it'll be about two years. Just don't tell the lieutenant.' The intercom went silent. Then Ensign Bridges sounded shocked.

'My God, sir –'

Riker frowned. 'Ensign, what's wrong?'

'Commander Quinn just vanished, sir. In a flash of white light.' Riker nodded, looking satisfied.

'All right, Ensign. Go to your quarters. You're off duty for today.'

'Yes Commander.' Riker turned to Picard, who was seriously considering having hysterics.

'Just Q playing tricks with our minds.'

Picard got up, a smile on his face. 'I'll be in my ready room, Number One.' Riker nodded as Picard left the bridge. Pausing, only momentarily, he glanced at Lieutenant Thames' back with a wistful expression. Then he went into his ready room.

Troi suddenly jerked in her seat, causing Riker to look at her. 'Is there something wrong, Counsellor?' Troi wore a puzzled expression. She looked at Riker.

'For a moment, just before Captain Picard asked Data to check his readings, I felt an instant of complete shock, and then…' she struggled for the words, 'gratitude, and finally elation. All from Captain Picard. As if he'd just seen us die, and come back to life. It's completely out of character for the captain. He usually keeps his emotions tightly under control.' She looked at Riker, an eyebrow raised. Riker shrugged. Data turned, nonplussed.

'Why did he call me Captain?'

Riker shrugged, confusion written on his face. 'And who's this "lieutenant"?'

Troi looked at Thames' back. Thames had stiffened slightly; imperceptibly if Troi had not been looking for it.

'I think I know.' Troi got up and walked over to Thames. Riker shrugged and settled into the centre seat, and engrossed himself in reading a report.

Troi spoke quietly, but she had failed to remember that Data's enhanced hearing permitted him to hear much better than a human being. 'Lieutenant, I don't want to worry you or embarrass the captain, but when he started behaving strangely, I felt a strange emotion from him, that I've never felt before from him, at least not towards a member of the crew.' Thames frowned.

'Why are you telling me, Counsellor?' asked Thames, seemingly unconcerned, but Troi was convinced that she could hear a trace of hoping in Thames' voice. The Counsellor placed her hand on the back of Thames' chair, and lowered her voice even further, trying not to embarrass the lieutenant.

'It appears that he loves you, Lieutenant.' Thames looked up at Troi in surprise. Data looked at Troi, stunned and shocked, probably worse than Thames was. Troi glanced at Data and mouthed, _shut up._

'Counsellor,' Thames lowered her voice, 'I think I return the feeling. Do you think that's what Q meant when he said....' She broke off, clearly embarrassed.

Troi cocked an eyebrow. 'What do you think, Lieutenant? Go back to your work, it's been a strange few minutes.' Thames turned back to her panel, looking puzzled. Data stared at her for a second in pure shock, and then turned his attention back to his readout. It took him another couple of seconds to get his attention focused once again. Troi went over and stood outside Picard's ready room.

As she paused, she realised that this was probably the first time that the Captain had ever met Lieutenant Thames, unless something was going on. But Thames said she loved _him_....

Troi shook her head.

As Picard entered his ready room, he paused to look at it as it should be. He walked to his desk, and sat down. He saw his reflection in the screen. It was not aged anymore, and Picard at last let go of any last lingering fears that Q had not kept his promise. He had believed that Q was still playing games with him, and that if he blinked, he would find himself sat in his chair in San Francisco, waiting for Thames to return home. Suddenly, the door bleeped.

'Come in.'

Deanna Troi entered. 'Captain, can I speak to you?'

Picard gestured to the seat before him. 'At any time. Sit down, Counsellor.' She sat. Picard gazed at his "dead" counsellor for a moment before she spoke.

'Captain, I felt a surge of emotion from you a few minutes ago. Is everything all right?' Picard smiled broadly, and debated for a moment whether to tell her the truth or not. He decided to have a game with her.

'What would you say if I told you every single one of you had died in a huge war, and that the entire Federation, and the Cardassians, Romulans, Klingons, Ferengi, and every race that we know of, including the Q, were involved in this war? And that I'd also seen us win, and then it turned out that the war had never occurred and nobody had died?' Troi frowned, clearly confused and taken aback by Picard's cryptic answer.

'Hypothetically speaking, I hope?' Picard smiled, and took her hand, gripping it tightly, having forgotten how good Counsellor Troi was to talk to.

'Counsellor, I just realised how much I appreciate this crew and ship, and I don't want to lose any of you. I just want you to understand this.'

Troi nodded, but couldn't resist adding, 'Especially Lieutenant Thames, Captain?' Picard frowned, but his voice was playful.

'I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Counsellor.' Troi smiled.

'Don't worry, both yours and her secret is safe with me.' Picard released her hand.

'You probably know that I wish there were a secret. Is that all, Counsellor?' Troi nodded once, a smile on her lips, and stood. As she left the room, Picard leaned back in his seat. He felt the urge to laugh out loud. Instead he said:

Captain's Personal Log: Stardate 50992.1 - This log will be sealed in Starfleet archives for a century. I have recorded the above events in my personal log, encrypted, and sealed them until the year 2473. I believe that these events, despite having never happened, will provide a huge insight into the possible future of humanity and the ways of the Q Continuum. These events have affected me _personally_ even more than my assimilation by the Borg. After these experiences, I do not feel the same animosity towards any of the races I have encountered in my travels that I may have harboured before; not even the Borg. I feel that an agreement would be possible between us without the intervention of the Aralla, or anyone else. Watching our universe die once gives me a new appreciation of the fragility of our lives. But, I know, that whatever the strife, _we can survive_. It is strange, but for the first time, I look forward to my next meeting with Q.

Addendum to Archive Log: Any information on the whereabouts of USS _Voyager_ has been deleted from this and any other notations I have made. I can only hope that Captain Janeway does make it back. I for one would like to see if Seven of Nine can equal the progress she made in the other universe. Knowing how she fared there, I believe that she can.

With an abrupt jerk, Seven of Nine jolted forward from her regeneration alcove and stumbled down the short flight of steps to the deck. She stood for a moment, recalling the images that still floated in her mind.

The Aralla! But no, that was another universe. She considered calling for a scan, but she knew that that would be an irrational act. Calmly, coldly, she reviewed what had happened.

After a moment, she realised that she could not remember. Every time she tried to fix a memory in her mind, it faded away, like a wraith of smoke in a slight breeze. The only thing that stuck was her feeling about Torres. She shook her head again, unsure of its meaning, and certainly not willing to act on it.

A dream, she decided, remembering what the EMH had told her of such things. Maybe it was a sign of her increased maturity.

She shook her head, feeling it all slip away, out of reach, but intangibly still there, in her mind. All she could remember now was a vague thought, not of her own mind, but of someone else's mind.

Something about a final reckoning....

It awoke slowly, stunned beyond all it had ever experienced before. The darkness… the lights about it, the _fire!_

Such pain, such torture, as every single nerve was incinerated simultaneously whilst still lasting long enough to experience the excruciation.

And now, here.

It was almost unexplainable, but it had a separate mind with which to think the unthinkable, the impossible. It communed with –

The voice was gone. Silent, extinguished.

Bereft of even this meagre comfort, the one last remaining survivor of the Aralla race howled to the night skies of Earth, screamed in a human voice the pain of an alien race.

When it finally fell silent, mind wracked by despair and hatred, fury built inside it. Hatred of the victors, the humans and all those who had burnt the Aralla race to extinction.

And it swore revenge.

It stood slowly, feeling the unfamiliar contours of the body it wore, the red uniform of the enemy reviling the creature which wore it, and moved from the room.

It had much to do….

The aide poked his head around the door. All he could see was a chair beside a window, and a padd resting on the floor beside it.

'Admiral Picard?

'Admiral Picard?

__

'Sir….?'


	28. Epilogue II: The Ultimate Vision

__

Epilogue II

(Four and a half billion years later)

As the sun bathed the home of humanity in cold red light for its final few hours, the last inhabitants fled the Earth.

At the spaceports of the Earth, the ships bearing the twin symbols of the Galactic Federation and Universal Alliance escaped the Earth's final doom. The long, sleek vessels, which still displayed the standard design of two nacelles and a saucer that bore mute testimony to the ancient designs of the United Federation of Planets, and the work of Zefram Cochrane, fled the cradle for the last time.

Humans, now masters of space and energy, were still susceptible to the ravages of time and destruction, life and death, because their life span had not yet extended to the same length as that of the Q or the Organians.

The captain of the last ship watched as the last of the refugees entered the ship. He was about to turn and begin the lift-off, when he suddenly spotted a lone figure walking calmly amongst the rubble of humanity's last home. Wearing a robe of white, and carrying a box, he seemingly glided towards the starship.

'Hurry up!' called the captain, not using his defunct mouth. His voice resounded through the stranger's mind.

There was no reply. 'I said, -'

'I have something for you, captain.' The stranger looked at the captain, silencing him. The captain stepped down the ramp, almost hypnotised by the stranger.

'What?' The stranger handed him the box. Caught up in an air of mystery, the captain stared at the object mystified.

'What is it?' The stranger smiled.

'A part of the past that I no longer have need of. Look after it. It is a favour I owe a friend.' The captain nodded mutely. He entered the ship. The ramp retracted into the ship silently, the door slid shut, and the vessel launched silently.

Q watched the ship escape. He was alone on Earth now. Soon, he would leave this universe in search of new adventure. The Continuum would still remain, empty, until the humans were ready to take on the new challenge of guiding the next races.

He paused for a moment, ruminating. He had one last task to perform, but he had plenty of time left to do that, far back in the past as it was. As he had approached his impending death, the great adventure the Q had been promised by Quinn, so long before, he had begun to appreciate how important time was. He had promised to do this task as he was about to "shuffle off this immortal coil", as some Q with a particularly bizarre sense of humour had been amused to put it, so that he would be able to relate better to what his task required of him.

Shaking his head, Q raised his hand and clicked his fingers.

As he vanished in a blaze of white light for the last time, the Earth disappeared in a hail of red fire and destruction. The last ship leaped into the crawl of warp speed, leaving the Solar system behind for the last time.

The captain sat aboard in the centre chair, thinking about the item given to him by the stranger. He simply sat and stared into the box he had been given, as the great ship entered into the relatively slow Ultra-warp speed. He knew that the beginning of the Galactic Federation had been saved by the brave efforts in a massive war of salvation. Maybe, one day, this item would relinquish its secrets and tell them more about the great Aralla War.

Data's eyes, dead these billions of years, stared back at him. The head, recovered from his burial place on Vegryo VII by Q, flew into the future, about to see the world he had helped create. Maybe they could reactivate him. Whatever happened, Data's life didn't seem to be quite over.

The immense vessel accelerated one last time, and vanished into a white gate of energy that led to the next Final Frontier.

__

The End of the First Book of the Final Reckoning


End file.
